#thank you again for sharing though <333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[icharchivist]

So apparently Etemenanki was a ziggurat in ancient Babylon. It was so huge (six layers tall!) that people would talk about it and it would later inspire tales of the tower of Babyl

Also its name means "Foundation of Heaven and Earth"

I was just watching a video about ancient Babylon and started screaming when they mentioned that and just had to share

aah thank you so much for sharing <333 i appreciate you running in my ask to share the knowledge, it's really sweet!!

I happened to know about all of this, i did a few researches on some of the important names in wmtsb (and in most stuff i care about) to try to figure out what the inspiration was and stuff, it's been something that has obsessed me for a while!

(i read about it before Tower of Babyl was announced as an event, i can tell you my theories ran wild at the time until they made it just "the ruins of the Pandemonium")

Also fun fact, my mom is the type of person who is always watching a documentary of some kind, depends on what she is having a major interest in at the moment, and for some reasons, our interests end up overlapping in weird ways like... when i was reading the Dragon Knights stories, if i was to wander into the living room, she would somewhat coincidentally be watching a documentary about Arthurian legends. Stuff like that. All the time. and so while i made my own researches about Etemenanki at the time, since i was staying at my mom's for a bit, it just happened that it was in the middle of her Babylon and Canaan obsession so it was all there was on the TV, and i had a moment of "going to grab something in the kitchen only to hear the TV start talking about the Etemenanki and being all like wtf"

So i feel you so much in term of suddenly being spooked by this type of things in documentaries. Always an amazing feeling right?

[singsweetmelodies]

I saw your post n i was like “how did she type all that while she’s in a meeting” impressive😁

Again, the whole thing is so stupid. Why get so aggressive about smtg like this… i mean i do go a little feral with charles n lewis at times😬 but I won’t go to someone’s asks to fight about it just because they don’t share the same views🤷🏻‍♀️

Do I dislike Carlos? Yes (hate will be too strong for some people but not to me cos I’m born to be a hater😌jk)

But am I gonna stop liking carlando posts if I find them cute ? No 👀

Like what i do on my tumblr account is my business as long it’s not affecting anyone else.. but if you get hurt because I don’t like your driver that’s a you problem right? .. and some people can’t even get this through their thick skulls.. smh

Anywaysss… ignore those weirdos.. hope you survive your meeting 🙃

T

me in my meeting, reading this and just nodding along emphatically to everything you've said 🤭👌 like, YES. you get it bestie!! unfortunately i then had to go and ACTUALLY pay attention in the meeting, but i wanted to come back and reply to you because this ask made me smile and nod very much <333 thank youuu so much love!

[lokissweater]

birds of a feather . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

{olympic figure skater!satoru gojo x olympic figure skater f!reader}

summary: you and satoru have known each other since childhood, two little birds navigating through life together as you shared one dream in common— to win gold at the olympics, you both a figure skating pair as you moved and performed and fell in love as the years went by, both balancing off a trembling tight rope and holding on to keep each other in place, a silent agreement that if you indulged and fell into the depths of the truth of what you were, you’d run the risk of losing your careers and each other, yours and satoru’s biggest fears. but you’re growing, and it’s getting harder to hold back… especially for satoru— that trembling tight rope on the verge of snapping in two.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, childhood best friends to lovers trope, cursing, DIABOLICAL ANGST BUT WITH HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE!, mentions of death and loss, mentions of injury and blood, FLUUUFFF, satoru loves loves loves you, SMUUUTT, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, pussy eating, dom satoru, pussy drunk satoru, DIRTY TALK, pet names, figure skating, the olympics, true love <3

word count: 22.3k (I KNOW PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE PLEASE—)

authors note: YYYOOOUUU GUUUYYSSS THIS ONE IS MY BABBBYYY AND IM CRYING NOW WRITING THIS LMFAOAOAO. i hope you all love it seriously i GLADLY worked day and night writing this and i’d do it all over again just to see y’all happy :) THANK YOU for your support it is UNREAL, and like always, I LOOVEEE YOUUU MWAAHHH <333

you first met satoru when you were six at the skating rink.

he was only a year older than you, both of your mothers coincidentally signing you up for the same youth ice skating lessons for beginners, meeting and chatting it up seeing as you and satoru were the youngest in age out of the rest of the parents there and their children, you both automatically put together by your coach and separated from the older kids to do warm ups.

and even though the age difference was only a year, satoru at first treated you like a little helpless tiny thing who needed assistance in everything— the cute pink ribbons in your hair doing you an injustice and further implementing the image of a little girl who had no clue of what was going on around her, thinking you were cutesy and he was determined to be your little knight in shining armor when the time came.

until he saw you skate.

what satoru didn’t know, was that you were a prodigy— related to one of the most famous ice skaters in olympic ice skating history, akira, as her talent was blessedly passed down to you through your fruitful system and the lucky processes of genetics— chosen as you barely even had to be taught, you catching everything right away by the coach without any sort of slip and fall… unlike satoru who was clumsily struggling to even glide through the ice without wobbling.

and little satoru was astonished by you and your talent, his first impression of you drastically changing by the end of the first lesson as he shakily slid across the ice over to where you were, patiently doing little turns on the ice while you waited for your mother to finish up talking to another lady (it was satoru’s mother).

“hi!” he had greeted you, a huge goofy smile on his face as you slowed down and looked at him, returning a shy smile of your own.

“hi.”

“i’m satoru!” he extended a hand, eyes shooting wide as he suddenly lost his balance and slipped forward, on the brink of face planting on the ice as his hands quickly flailed out and gripped the edge of the rink to save himself.

you giggled, tiny hands reaching and holding his arm steady as he tried to regain his balance.

“are you okay?” your shy voice asked, and he grinned through his wobbling.

“yeah! i’m okay! don’t worry!”

but he still couldn’t stabilize himself.

“maybe we should sit on the bench?” you suggested sweetly. “so you don’t fall…”

“okay!”

you gripped him as hard as you could (which really wasn’t a lot for a six year old) and slowly moved with him on the ice, supporting him until you were both out of the rink and seated on the bleachers.

“what’s your name?” he chirped, his hands clutching on the edge of the bench as he leaned forward and looked at you kindly, legs swinging.

“y—y/n.”

“nice!” he cheesed, looking at you. “i saw you skate. you’re really good!”

“t—thank you.” you mumbled, shy and alarmed that a boy was talking to you.

“when did you start skating?”

you looked at him confusedly. “um.. today?”

his eyes bulged.

“hah?! today?!”

you jumped at his outburst, cheeks pink as you quickly nodded.

“wowww!…” he gushed with stars in his eyes. “that’s great! i saw you doing turns and things. i can barely move on the ice… it’s slippery.”

“well—” you peeked up at him shyly. “my—my aunt taught me some stuff… but not a lot.”

“you have someone in your family that skates?” he asked excitedly with huge blue eyes. “how cool! hopefully i can catch up to you and at least move…”

“that’s okay...” you smiled. “i know you will.”

“really?!” he gushed again before leaning back, nodding his head cutely. “if you think so, then i know so!”

and you giggled at him, your timid wall slowly crumbling down at his bubbly and kind personality as he was a chatterbox and talked to you about anything that had to do with olympic ice skating— him knowing so much about it and nearly screaming his head off and panicking when he found out that your aunt was none other than akira, now knowing exactly why you were so good at skating in the first place.

satoru looked up to you. so much so that it was comical— seeking your approval over the following years during lessons and not even listening to the damn coach himself as he listened more to you, wanting you to teach him how to do bunny hops or backward crossovers and giving a big fat attitude to anyone else who tried to coach him, whining and snoring away until you and your little bows skated over to him to teach him.

and because of that you spent a lot of time with satoru in and out of lessons, even more than you ever spent with your own friends at school as you clung to him at all times— him cheering and encouraging you on when you were shy in certain situations, and you teaching him everything you could about skating and bringing him little bags of strawberry gummy puffs since he had the biggest sweet tooth you had ever seen, you both cemented and stubbornly attached to the hip with neither wanting to let go.

and when your mother’s planned a little playdate at the local outdoor ice skating rink on a chilly december day— an enormous christmas tree sitting tall and glorious by the rink with twinkling star-shaped fairy lights and jingle bells surrounding the plaza, you and satoru spinning each other around and dancing and giggling over the murmur of classic christmas songs, they saw the potential… an idea sparking in their heads amongst their cooing and picture taking.

you and satoru were both originally put into the ice skating world to train and be independent professional skaters, olympic athletes to be more specific when the time came.

but that concept quickly changed the second you met.

now— you and satoru were an olympic ice skating pair, the subject materializing when your mother’s pulled you out from those simple ice skating lessons (you both already way past getting the basics down since your skill combined with you teaching satoru had you both surpassing the class) and paying for a professional couples figure skating coach to get you guys started now and early.

and the both of you were over the moon, especially satoru, as he absolutely adored you and begged his mother literally every fucking day if he could go over to your house or over to the ice skating rink with you to dance, you doing the same and the two of you crying and wailing on the floor whenever times wouldn’t work out and plans fell through, your mother’s having to give in and drag you to each other’s houses so you would both stop crying.

when akira found out you were officially figure skating, she nearly drove into the side of a building speeding over to your house from being out of the country for so long competing.

“is it true?!” she burst through the doors, your mother rolling her eyes after being startled half to death over her bizarre behavior. “is my little niece gonna be a figure skater like me?!”

you gasped excitedly upon seeing her, getting up from your spot on the rug and running over to akira’s open arms, leaving your coloring book and crayons behind as she swung you around.

“she started when she was six you know that…” your mother grumbled, folding various kitchen towels.

“but you just told me now that she’s not independent!” akira countered, setting you down and holding you out at arms length, eyes wide and eager. “—but partner figure skating! like me!”

she shook you. “where is he?! your partner! is he here? is he your age? is he nice?”

you perked up and looked over to the kitchen. “oh mommy! satoru should come and meet—”

“his name is satoru? oh my goodness how cuteeee!” she cooed, pinching your cheeks. “is he handsome? do you like him? do you have a crush on him—”

your little cheeks blazed as your mother threw a kitchen towel at her.

“she’s eight aki! jesus christ.”

“love has no limits.” akira wiggled a finger, and you giggled.

your mother called satoru’s place soon after, his mother excitedly conversing over the other line about how the akira was finally back in town and how satoru was gonna lose his mind once he saw her— you knowing he was the biggest fan and sometimes told you facts during lessons that you didn’t even know about your own aunt.

and when they finally did arrive, satoru was stiff— frozen in place with tight arms at his sides by the living room as his alarmed big blue eyes looked at akira with a sickly pale face, you snickering behind him.

“hi satoru!” akira greeted, leaning down with her hands on her knees to look at him at eye level. “it’s nice to meet you! y/n tells me you like my skating?”

“u—uhuh.” he responded dumbly, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing, knowing satoru would cry and whine about it later if he heard you.

“that’s great! i’m happy you skate too… and with my niece i should say!” she spoke kindly, ruffling his snowy colored hair up and standing upright, placing her hands on her hips and looking like a straight freaking superhero in satoru’s eyes. “you wanna compete in the olympics?”

“uh huh.”

a laughing breath hurled from your throat and your cheeks puffed up like a squirrel, clasped hands still over your mouth and face going red from how hard you were trying to keep it in.

“that’s what i like to hear.” she smiled, a shiny impressive one as satoru still stood there in a stuck daze.

“work hard okay? the both of you. so you can catch up to me someday, yeah?”

your hands slowly fell from your mouth then, eyes filled with admiration and determination as you both eagerly nodded, looking at each other hopefully.

“you think—” satoru stammered, looking at akira. “you think we can… win three gold medals like you?”

“oh absolutely!” she shrugged. “i don’t doubt it at all.”

you and satoru gushed, glittering little eyes as you stared up cutely at akira, her giving you both a silly grin.

“how long have they been doing partner work?” she asked your mother suddenly, watching the way you and satoru chattered then excitedly about the actual possibility of competing for the olympics someday.

“mmm, i wanna say for about a year and a half? maybe two?” she looked over at satoru’s mother, who nodded in agreement. “they’re with a couple’s figure skating coach right now.”

akira hummed and shifted her gaze back down between the two of you.

“i’m training them from now on.”

both mothers froze, eyes wide as they stared at her.

you and satoru hadn’t even realized what she said, still caught up in your little bubble of the olympics and metals and competitions until your mother caught your attention.

“did you hear?”

you shook your head. “hear what!”

“akira wants to coach you and satoru.”

his jaw dropped and he nearly passed out on the floor, you quickly grabbing his shoulders as he reeled over.

“are— are you sure?” your mother continued, looking at her sister now. “aren’t you busy? i thought you were only here for the weekend.”

she waved her off. “i need a break from skating for a little… at least until the next olympics.”

akira turned to you then and smiled warmly. “and i wanna coach my little niece and her new buddy! if that’s okay?”

“yesyesyesyes!—”

both you and satoru bounced up and down and cheered, arms up as you tackled and hung off of akira like a jungle gym, her laughing and smiling big at your enthusiasm.

akira was the most important figure in your life, right next to satoru as she became a mother figure to the both of you as well as your mentor.

and training with her was not easy— your age not an excuse at all whatsoever in her eyes to not learn proper figure skating moves and technique, saying it would only serve you right in the end if you started adapting your bodies to it now rather than later.

and like most things, akira was right. but even though practices were grueling and tough to the point where you had to drag satoru across the ice to get up, she always tried to make them fun in the end— cracking jokes and teaching you guys silly little tricks that you could do with each other on the ice that she figured out over her years of skating with her partner, taking you both out for ice cream frequently after and telling you of her travels competing around the world, the people she’d met, and the titles she’d won— all things that were you and satoru’s ultimate dream as you listened eagerly.

by the time you were twelve and satoru was thirteen, it was obvious you guys were meant to be olympic athletes together.

“you need to pick your leg a little further up on the spin, toru.”

he stuck his tongue out. “says who.”

“says me.” you poked his cheek. “and i’m pretty sure aki told you before she left too.”

“yes ma’am!” he nodded, gliding a bit further away from you on the ice before picking his momentum up and reaching you, him bending his knees and wrapping his arms around your torso as you both went into fast spins, one leg extended for the both of you as your arms gripped over his shoulders— practicing the routine akira had given you for your upcoming competition.

“yeah like that!” you smiled, spins gradually slowing down and satoru coming back up from his bend until you both stood still on the ice. “good job toru!”

he grinned and ruffled your hair. “thanks!”

“mhm!” you responded, turning and skating away to the edge of the rink to hide the blush that was rising in your cheeks.

“what?!” he whined. “where are you going? do i stink?”

“no!” you laughed, shaking your head. “just the usual sweat and B.O.”

“aw no!” he quickly skated to the edge of the rink and out before flying for his duffel bag. “i hate being a man i hate puberty this is ridiculous—”

“i’m kidding im kidding!” you called from across the ice, cackling when he stopped and whipped his head over, glaring at you. “you’re fine toru— not stinky.”

“well you’re stinky for putting me in distress how about that?” he huffed, an eventual smile playing at his lips as he put down his duffel bag and went inside the rink again.

akira was currently on her way to compete at the olympics for her fourth gold medal in partner figure skating, you and satoru having no doubt in your minds that she was going to absolutely clear everyone else there and get it, as she’s never gotten silver or bronze or anything lower than that.

“when do we fly to see aki again?” satoru called from across the ice, gliding to and fro in figure eights. “don’t say tomorrow morning because i haven’t started packing yet heh… oops.”

you giggled. “it is tomorrow morning, dummy.”

“no!” he stopped and shoved his hands in his hair. “i haven’t even started planning my outfits! oh i was gonna take so many pictures what am i supposed to do now—”

you laughed loudly and skated back over to him, hands wrung behind your back as you looked at him cheekily. “you’re silly toru. outfits for what? literally just show up.”

“it’s not everyday we leave the country y/n!” he whined. “i wanted to sport my best and look cool, dang it.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and lifted your hand, patting his head.

“i’ll show up in pajamas and you show up in yours, and we’ll call it a day. hm?”

he grinned.

“matching? or seperate? and what color? plaid?”

“toru!”

he laughed and skated past you, nudging your shoulder with his in the process. “i’m just messing with youuu, matching obviously!”

satoru came back around, reached up and straightened the ribbons in your hair, little white bows sitting pretty as a blush rose to his cheeks when he was done.

“wanna run it three more times and call it?” he suggested. “i wanna make sure i get what you told me down before we go.”

you smiled and quickly nodded, taking satoru’s extended hand and skating together to first position.

watching akira win gold in person for the first time in your life was an experience you’ll never forget.

and she did it fucking beautifully.

with every precise move, with every articulate angle you and satoru screamed and yelled like crazy people in front of the rink while waving around your countries tiny flags, cheering with fat tears rolling down your faces when she successfully landed each time, holding each other so tight with mushed up cheeks throughout her routine with her partner and still in anxiousness when the time came for revealing final scores.

no one could skate like her. absolutely no one as she speedily glided across the ice and spun, prepped herself for the hardest most impressive turns you had ever seen in your life, and performed a quadruple axel rotation in the air all on her own— things that have always earned her the highest scores for three successive olympic years.

and four now— because when akira and her partner stepped up on that podium, you and satoru had to basically be yanked back by your mothers with the way you both tried to jump over the edge of the rink to her, her standing there like a beacon of light on the first place podium, a gold medal hung rightfully around her neck with flowers in her arms as she smiled so so big and happily, her eyes not once leaving you and satoru.

eventually when the ceremony was over, amongst all of the buzz and the crowd roaring and picture taking— akira quickly skated over to the two of you and leaned on the edge of the rink.

“akiiii!” you both wailed and flung your arms around her neck, her giggling and hugging you both back as best as she possibly could despite the mass amount of bouquets in her hands.

“did i do okay?!” she yelled over the noise.

you both pulled back and looked at her like she was insane.

“did you do okay?!” you gawked.

“aki— you won a fucking gold medal!” satoru yelled.

“HAH!” she laughed loudly. “don’t say that word in front of your mommy satoru she’ll chop my head off and kill me!”

you both giggled uncontrollably.

akira leaned her head in then and you and satoru followed through, all three foreheads resting against each others.

“listen to me for a second.“ she started. “you guys are birds of a feather, okay? you need to stick together and fly together as one.”

she let you both go and dropped the bouquets she was holding on the icy floor before placing a hand on yours and satoru’s outer cheeks, bringing you in. “don’t fight. don’t separate. don’t leave each other. you need to keep each other and what you have safe.”

you both quickly nodded, tears funnily gathering at the corners of your eyes at what she was saying, and she smiled.

“yes partner figure skating is about chemistry and technicality, but it’s about love… and sometimes just that. without genuine love, nothing will click.” she let your cheeks go and grabbed her shiny gold medal, holding it up. “this will be yours. i promise you.”

akira put down her medal, wiping both yours and satoru’s wet cheeks. “birds of a feather. stick together. keep each other safe. do you understand?”

the two of you sniffled and nodded.

“and i need to stop cussing in front of you guys during practices, don’t i?!” she smiled warmly, and you and satoru shook your heads frantically.

“no keep doing it!—”

“it’s funny please!—”

ever since akira told you that, it became you and satoru’s thing.

before and after every competition, with every hello and every goodbye at the beginning and end of the day, throughout the hours randomly whenever you both felt like it, you’d lock pinkies and reiterate ‘birds of a feather’ before kissing your thumbs and locking your promise in place— another one of the many other ways you’d show that you loved each other.

but whether it was platonically or romantically remained unknown until you both hit high school.

perhaps it had always been romantically… that you weren’t exactly sure of. but the way you and satoru had been treating each other since you were literally the age of six, made the technicalities of what it was blurry and a little confusing— for you couldn’t even remember when it was that you started loving satoru.

maybe it was that very first day when he skated over to you, wobbly and clumsy with a cheesy smile.

and as if it wasn’t already confusing enough of what the two of you were, the way you acted made it ten times worse.

but you’d been that way since forever— embracing each other a little longer than you should, innocently kissing each others cheeks and heads and hands, calling each other pet names and being each other’s dates to every single school dance—

but it was all harmless. not a single bad thought behind it and doing it like a reflex.

it was like you both were line balancing across the thinnest tight rope known to mankind— flimsy and unsteady, always on the verge of toppling over and falling completely into the darkening depths of the truth of what you were, but catching each other just before you did to regain balance back on the rope.

neither of you said it, but if you and satoru ever dared to be anything more than friends, and if something were to happen where you had to break up— you’d lose your first love, your best friend, and your entire career all in one.

the consequences were too drastic— you both knew that.

and you didn’t want to break your promise… so you acted blind to it.

by the time you were seventeen and satoru was eighteen, akira started training you for the international skating union competition to earn a spot for the olympics.

well— she actually started when you were about fourteen, but as the years progressed, her coaching and critiques got increasingly more difficult and nitpicky as well as the moves she taught you, wanting you both to build endurance to it and perfect it so that by the time you reached the age requirement for the olympics— it would be easier to train for it and be formidable competitors against the other pairs.

you and satoru wanted to be olympians more than anything else in your lives, and akira knew just how important this was for the both of you— making it her absolute mission to help accomplish solely that as she saw herself through the two of you.

your dreams were just like hers, and she respected and nurtured the fact with everything that she had.

“up! aaand up! and take her— throw— land oh shit—”

just as you had landed a semi complex throw jump, you lost balance and landed right on your ass, sliding across the ice on your side.

it was rare when you fell, and you absolutely despised when you did.

“fuck!” satoru quickly skated over to you and knelt down. “are you okay?!”

“why can’t i land that man?” you whined, covering your eyes.

akira smoothly traveled over to you both.

“it’s okay! we just learned it today sweets like— right now… you’ll have it down in the next five minutes.” satoru smiled softly, carefully helping you up on your skates and checking you over.

“don’t overly punish yourself, y/n.” akira reached and pinched your cheek. “i love that you’ve always been so serious about your technique, but you have to leave room for error my love or else you’ll choke yourself out.”

satoru ran a soothing hand along your back and you smiled cutely up at him, his heart jittering so much from it that he had to quickly retract his arm.

you nodded, always taking satoru’s and akira’s words seriously like inscriptions to a stone wall. “okay!”

he grinned and kissed the side of your head before taking your hand and leading you to first position like always.

akira smirked.

“are you guys together yet!” she blurted from across the ice and you both choked as she skated over.

“are we— are we—” you stammered.

“what?” she breathed out, placing her hands on her hips. “are you at least in love?”

satoru’s blue eyes bulged open with a furious pink tint to both of your cheeks.

“aki!” you whined, embarrassed. “stop it—”

“have you guys at least gone on one date?”

satoru pouted. “no.”

“i’m—” you played with your fingers. “i’m going on one today—”

“you’re what?!” he whipped his head in your direction, eyebrows furrowed.

“yeah…” you looked at him. “i’ve never gone on one and some guy at school asked me so i— i just thought—”

you thought it’d do you some good, since the one you wanted you couldn’t really have.

“are you actually..?” satoru trailed off, an unfamiliar strike of something in his chest making him a little upset.

but he knew damn well what it was.

“but—” akira stared at you wide eyed, pointing at satoru. “but it’s— it’s supposed to be—”

“aki!” satoru quickly grabbed her arm and lowered it, eyes snapping to you next. “is it that one guy you told me about? from your english class?”

“uh huh.” you fidgeted. “he asked me again and i felt bad saying no so i— said yes…”

satoru swallowed, nodding.

“oh you big dummies!” akira groaned. “we’ll talk about this later or else i’m gonna go into fucking cardiac arrest from frustration—”

she skated off to the edge of the rink and out, leaning on it from the outside with her head dramatically hung.

you both got into starting position, but you faltered when you noticed satoru was oddly quiet and stiff.

“…toru?”

he blinked down at you. “huh?”

“you okay?”

“oh!— yeah.” he smiled weakly. “i’m fine baby.”

“you sure—”

“what time is your date?”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. “it’s a bit after this... i told him to just give me time to shower and get ready.”

“if he can’t accept you stinky then he’s not for you.” he shook his head in distaste. “he’s already failing in my eyes sweets absolutely flunking. maybe you should cancel it? yeah i say cancel it—”

you laughed, heart in your throat as your eyes gleamed up at him. “i can barely accept you stinky so i wouldn’t blame him—”

“hey!” he placed an exaggerated hand on his chest. “it’s not my fault i literally put my heart and soul out on the ice just for you to skate all over me—”

you gasped offendedly. “i don’t skate all over you—”

“do too!”

“do not!”

“do to—”

“you guys!” akira called. “you know i love it when you guys love on each other it makes me so happy and envision your wedding but right now we have to grind!”

you both froze up and snapped your heads in her direction with red faces, whining.

“aakkiii!—”

you practiced what you had of the routine a couple of more times, a few new moves and jumps added after each run until akira called it a day upon noticing you and satoru were practically sweating your asses off and messing up several times out of exhaustion.

“good job today you guys!” she smiled, patting you both on your shoulders. “i feel like the next time we meet we’ll have the choreography down... from there we just need to perfect it and you should be good for the next competish, okay?”

you both nodded and thanked her, sweet smiles on your faces as she reached up and pinched a side of both your cheeks.

“my little babies.” she cooed. “oh how you’ve grown! you guys were so little when we started now satoru is huge man jesus christ—”

she lifted her hand and reached up to measure satoru’s height from his forehead, her passing it over the top of her head and eyes widening at the huge gap.

he laughed and puffed up his chest. “i got big and strong too aki see?” he flexed an arm. “see? eh?”

“that you did!” she laughed brightly, ruffling up his hair. “the strongest.”

you giggled and skated over to the edge of the rink to pack up, internally panicking a little that you guys went overtime and it was almost time for your date.

“satoru..” akira whispered, looking over her shoulder to make sure you weren’t listening. “what’s going on? you still haven’t asked her out? i thought you said you were gonna do it.”

“no..” he mumbled. “but we can’t. and she knows that too so— so what am i supposed to do—”

she gawked. “do you not see what’s happening?! she’s gonna go on a date with someone else! off with this stupid fear you guys have already seriously.”

“we caan’tt aki.” he pushed sadly. “it’s too risky.”

“but it’s not though!” she threw her arms out. “you guys have known each other since practically birth i feel like if it wasn’t meant to be you would’ve separated by now!”

satoru gnawed at his bottom lip in thought, eyes trained to the way your bows moved in your hair as you swung your duffel bag over yourself, smiling softly once he realized you had kindly packed his things for him too as you sat on the bench and waited for him to take you home.

akira sighed.

“it’s not my place to tell you guys what to do… but love has no limits. you know that.”

he nodded, smiling weakly at her as they skated out of the rink and prepared to lock up, akira hugging you both goodbye with a family kiss to your cheeks and you separating ways with her for the day, but not before her reminding you guys of practice tomorrow and that she loved you over her shoulder.

satoru was dreading you going on your date as he drove— the both of you normally talking about random things like always but his mind unable to stray from the fact that you were actually giving some random dingbat a chance.

it was rare when either of you would talk to or date other people, never even as your heads have always been so focused on figure skating and competitions… but also on each other— taking care and loving one another that you never needed anybody else since you were everything to satoru and satoru to you, and you were both confident that absolutely no one could ever step up to that level.

so why were you going on a date?

but he shouldn’t be like this. he knew that. there was a silent agreement between the two of you to never fall off that thin tight rope and keep each other balanced. and you were allowed to see and date whoever you wanted— something that he probably should do as well to try and get over the fact that you’d never really be his.

satoru pulled up to your driveway and shifted his gear into park.

“thank you toru!” you smiled sweetly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “can i— can i come in with you? and hang while you get ready?”

you quirked a brow. “i thought that’s what we were already doing silly.”

“okay well invite me woman!” you both got out of the car and walked up the steps to your front door. “you can’t just assume. what if i was busy? what if i also had a date? hm?”

you gave him a sly grin as you twisted in your keys to unlock the door. “do you?”

“… no.”

you giggled and pushed open the door, the both of you immediately clasping your hands over your mouths to keep your laughs in at the sight of your mother sprawled out on the couch dead asleep with drool coming out of her mouth, the tv softly playing in the background as you quietly shut the door, went up the stairs and into your room.

satoru sat on your desk chair lazily while you quickly hopped in the shower to get ready for your stupid date, staring at the framed photographs on your nightstand that all consisted of you and him over the years, smiling softly at his favorite— a picture of the two of you when you were babies, cheek to cheek with huge smiles at the park as you held ice cream cones in each of your hands, satoru more than sure akira was the one who took that picture.

the sound of your door clicking shut pulled him from his thoughts as you walked in, drying your pretty hair with your little fuzzy towel and throwing it in the hamper once you were done.

“oh! i was gonna show you! i got these ribbons the other day—” you got down on your knees and looked under your bed, sticking a hand in and pulling out a white box as you picked it up and shuffled with your knees closer to satoru— sitting back on your ankles.

“—i was running out of ribbon so i got these!” you held up the box and satoru took it, examining the various pastel colors with warm eyes. “some of them are polka dotted and i thought that was cute.”

“it is sweets!” he agreed.

satoru loved the ribbons in your hair, and you’d always wear them without fail because you knew just how much he did.

“i wanna start wearing bows too.” he wiggled his eyebrows, and you giggled.

“are you saying you wanna steal my brand toru?” you picked up a blue roll of ribbon from the box, a color that matched satoru’s eyes. “thought you were an honest man?”

he gasped. “i am an honest man! is it not obvious enough when i help you with your math homework? when i sacrifice my dignity and text you answers during your tests?”

you giggled and unrolled a strand of ribbon. “not when you eat all of my sweets that you actively dig through my room for—”

“but they’re always the strawberry gummy puffs!” he whined. “they make me a slut.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and stood, grabbing your little scissors and snipping off a piece of blue ribbon from the roll, stepping in front of satoru and leaning.

“watcha doing?” he asked, placing his hands on your waist.

“i’m putting a little bow in your hair before i leave!”

he hummed. “don’t think it’ll look as good on me as they do on you.”

you blushed, taking little pieces of white hair from the top of his head and wrapping the ribbon around, tying it the same way you’ve been doing for yourself since you were the age of nine.

you took a step back once you were finished and laughed. “you look cute toru!”

he raised a silly brow. “do i still look big and strong?”

“big and strong and pretty—”

“please don’t go.”

you stilled.

“what?”

satoru looked down, his bangs hiding his gorgeous eyes as he did.

“on your date.” he mumbled. “don’t go.”

you placed your hands softly on his shoulders, and his hold tightened a little around your waist.

“why?”

“because like i said if he doesn’t accept you stinky then he can’t have you when you smell like vanilla—”

“toru...” you spoke sternly, softly. “why not?”

you didn’t know why you were pushing it so much… maybe you were trying to see if you could get it out of him— if he had the will to actually say it unlike you…

and you hoped to god he would say it.

he slowly lifted his head and propped his chin up on your tummy, a sour expression on his face as he puckered his lips to the side like a little fish.

“dunno…” he muttered, his gaze flickering to yours and a sense of guilt swarming his chest at the uneasy look you had, his face relaxing as he sighed.

“sorry.” he smiled sheepishly, pulling back and letting go of your waist. “i’m kidding you have every right to—”

“m’not going.” you mumbled as you slid your hands away, looking down and playing with your fingers.

“huh?” he furrowed his brows. “no baby go you should go—”

“i don’t want to.”

you never did in the first place. you had foolishly thought that letting someone else in like this would be good for you and help you establish some sort of… barrier with satoru so you weren’t always suffering so fucking much.

but you were absolutely stupid for that.

all you’ve ever wanted was satoru, and doing something to pull you away from the type of relationship you had with him (whether platonic or romantic you had no freaking clue), was not only hurting you, but hurting him.

you didn’t need anyone else, truly. all you needed was satoru and his silly smile and dramatic antics— to spend time with just him and skate and eat dinner together after practices every night while watching horror movies, laughing so much over his screams that your stomach hurt while he whined about how you were making fun of him.

that’s all you needed… just satoru.

regardless if there was something more in question.

“you don’t want to?” he repeated softly. “why?”

“you know why, toru…”

you had said it so softly he barely caught it, but he did, his breath hitching in his throat.

that was the closest you two had ever gotten to acknowledging it.

you both were silent for a moment, the soft murmur of your tv downstairs filling the void as you looked at each other, tense and waiting for either of you to say something… anything.

but it was like the gravity of the foreseeable consequences settled onto your shoulders, and the pair of you could only sadly smile.

satoru stuck his pinky finger out towards you then.

“birds of a feather?” he murmured.

you breathed out a little through your nose and looped your pinky with his, nodding.

“birds of a feather.”

he kissed his thumb and you did the same before locking the promise.

for the rest of the night, you and satoru watched a bunch of shitty unknown movies to try and see who would break and laugh first— you feeling bad that you had to cancel so last minute on that guy from your english class, but not regretting it at all as you watched satoru scarf down two slices of pizza in one sitting and nearly throw up, you almost falling off the bed from laughing so much and him having to catch you midway down and pull you back up, saying that he was your hero and therefore you should give him your last stash of strawberry gummy puffs as a reward.

it was nearly two am when you and satoru finally settled down, both sprawled over each other on the bed as you stared up at the ceiling and talked about literally anything that came to your minds— stubbornly fighting off sleep for whatever unknown reason in the dark.

“you know this is aki’s last olympics right?” you spoke softly, your arm propped up as you watched the way satoru played with your fingers.

“yeah..” he replied. “i don’t really know how to feel about that.”

“me neither.” you shook your head. “but she said it came at a perfect time because she’d been wanting to retire for a while.”

and now it was yours and satoru’s turn to try and fill the legacy she had built.

he hummed, delicately interlacing your fingers together as the outline of it through the darkness made you blush and smile, the nooks between his digits blessedly made entirely just for you as your fingers slotted perfectly in each spot every time.

and satoru silently vowed for the millionth time in his life that he would always be your hero and keep you safe, a promise that was already tied into your birds of a feather contract, but needing to repeat it to himself anyways while he listened to the sound of your voice talk about your excitement for the upcoming olympics.

and my god were you excited, the both of you— looking forward to seeing akira gracefully take home her fifth fucking gold medal like she always did with no repercussions, seeing her fans and the mass amounts of support she got every year with bouquets and teddy bears and picture taking, but also looking forward to spending even more time with her— for not just practices… but for forever, even more than you already did now as you two were greedy and just loved akira.

you were looking forward to forever, the three of you.

until akira’s accident.

“oh my god i’m gonna throw up—”

satoru hurled over just as you both stepped onto the bleachers at the olympic arena, you laughing and placing supporting hands on his shoulders as you followed your mother and satoru’s to your designated place by the front.

“toru i told you you’d make yourself sick if you didn’t leave that damn dessert table alone.”

“there were cinnamon rolls baby. cinnamon rolls how on earth could i possibly just walk by a platter of cinnamon rolls—”

“okay!” you giggled, carefully leading him to sit down and ruffling his hair once you settled. “i get it! you love cinnamon rolls.”

“not as much as i love you—”

“yuck!” you stuck your tongue out and pushed him away by his cheek, him laughing loudly as he shooed your arm away and grinned.

“toru— this is the last time we’re gonna be sitting here in the bleachers watching aki.” you mentioned. “isn’t that fucking nuts?”

“now i’m gonna cry and throw up.”

“no!” you giggled and nudged his shoulder. “then you’ll make me cry.”

he smiled and leaned over to plant a quick kiss to your cheek, reaching up and fixing the bows in your hair before looking straight ahead, his sparkling blue eyes staring at the rink.

the crowd roared suddenly and a mix of big and tiny flags of several individual countries waved in the air as you and satoru jumped and screamed when akira glided out with her skates and glittery dress, a huge dazzling smile on her face as she waved at the crowd, her eyes scanning around quickly before they finally landed on you and satoru.

as if she wasn’t already smiling enough, it grew bigger at the sight of you both practically over the fucking rink calling her name, her blowing you both a kiss and connecting her hands together to form a little bird, fluttering it up funnily and making you laugh before spinning around and going to starting position with her partner.

“oh she’s gonna wipe again.” satoru breathed out. “wipe absolute buttcheeks.”

you cackled as you both watched her routine— incredibly fast paced and technical, filled with spins and throw jumps and lifts as she made it known that it was her last year and wanted to leave with a mark, you and satoru absolutely mesmerized by the choreography as a dramatic symphony of a classical piece drummed through your ears by the speakers.

each move was executed beautifully, you and satoru at the edge of your damn seats as akira’s partner lifted her by the arms to settle over his shoulders into a split formation— halfway through the routine already.

“maybe we could do a move like that for when we compete!” you suggested over the music. “i feel like technically it could—”

a hand flew over your mouth as you watched akira topple and slam to the ground upon coming down from her split lift, the spinning blade of her partner slicing through her abdomen as her head nastily collided with the ice— the crowd screaming in terror.

“oh my god!—” your chest moved frantically and you and satoru looked at each other, horrified faces as you watched the backside of her limp body on the ground surrounded by paramedics, her partner hovering over her in complete and absolute distress.

and there was so much blood.

blood that pooled all around her figure and stained her shimmering dress, blood that wouldn’t stop fucking spreading as a stretcher finally made it out on the ice.

“baby.” satoru’s voice shook. “why isn’t aki moving.”

“i— i don’t know—”

“aki!”

you both snapped out of your shocked daze and screamed over the rink and jumped, shoes slipping against the ice as the two of you tried to reach her through your panicked tears and calls, security speeding through and pulling you both back as you watched the paramedics lift her frail body onto the stretcher and away from the rink.

“that’s—” you sucked in a sharp sob. “that’s my aunt please let us go—”

“you need to stay out of the rink—”

“fuck you!”

satoru shoved security away and grabbed your arm, wishing you had your skates on as you both practically crawled over to where akira was being carried out, not giving a single shit about the way your mothers yelling demanded you back as security had to literally pull you and satoru by the ankles, further and further away from the scene and away from akira until the only thing left was her pool of sickly crimson blood in front of you, you and satoru wailing.

akira died at the hospital later that night.

the collision of her head against the ice brought such blunt force trauma that it caused irreversible brain damage, and with the amount of blood that she was already losing from the laceration of the blade— those elements combined didn’t give her a single fighting chance at survival, her fate sealed from the moment her body hit the ground.

it was completely unexpected… an incident like that had never happened in not just olympic partner figure skating, but figure skating competitions as a whole— the severity of the situation so grave that the complex move akira and her partner performed that led to her death was banned from the olympics moving forward.

and you and satoru were fucking ruined.

ruined and crying and clutching over her arms and hands at her hospital bedside, it scaringly cold and stiff and not her usual warmth at all as you couldn’t accept that this was your reality, that akira had left you both all alone after not only her initial familial love that you’d gotten since birth, but after nearly a decade of giggles and skating, her picking you both up from school and cussing up a storm because it made you and satoru laugh as kids, buying you ice cream and taking you out for beach days because she said the sun was good for your skin, harassing you and taking a million pictures of the two of you as she uttered over and over again that love had no limits— your dream of forever with her cruelly severed over the sport you all loved most.

yours and satoru’s mentor, friend, your fucking mother figure— was gone.

your aunt was gone. your own blood.

the entirety of that bullshit situation sort of settled into your minds by the time her funeral came— painfully holding back tears as your family members gave their speeches and final wishes before the lowering of her casket, you and satoru not saying a single word throughout the entire thing until it was just you and him standing in front of her grave site— your mothers waiting for you in their cars.

you both chose not to give speeches. you couldn’t.

“toru.” you sniffled, drowning in your tears as satoru strained to keep his back, lips pulled into a thin line.

“yes pretty.”

“this is so fucked.”

satoru breathed out a weak laugh and let a couple of tears slip down his cheeks, wiping them with the sleeve of his black suit as he grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers, squeezing it.

“diabolically fucked.” he responded.

there really wasn’t much you could say at that moment in time, the two of you staring at the carvings on her tombstone as the wind softly blew over the petals of her flowers and letters, the day cloudy and cold and just fucked as you silently choked back sobs and whimpers, satoru lamely trying his best to stay strong for you— be your hero as he pulled you into his chest and squeezed you with everything that he had, nose buried in your hair as his tears fell and dampened a few strands.

“birds of a feather, toru.” you spoke softly, both of your frames shaking as the saying itself came from none other than akira.

he firmly nodded, lifting his head and kissing your cheek twice hard before looking at you.

“birds of a feather sweets.” his red teary eyes made your heart ache. “you can’t leave me too, okay?”

you scoffed and wiped your eyes, a sad smile on your face. “i could never… you know that.”

it didn’t really get easier from there, as everything in your lives reminded you of akira.

and though your mother was grieving the loss of her sister, she wanted to be left alone, and the only person that really understood the level of mourning you were on was satoru— him always there in the blink of an eye when you would call him in the middle of the night crying your eyes out while he held you, or when broken sobs wrecked through satoru’s trembling body as he cried into your chest while you held him and vice versa, endless amounts of ‘i miss her’s’ and ‘bring her back’s’ as you took turns depending on the day rolling on the floor unable to physically breathe over the loss as you tried to anchor each other back to normalcy, wondering how the world could be so cruel and continue spinning when you’d just lost half of your hearts.

but it did. it continued to spin and turn and carry on as you and satoru day by day tried to patch over what happened, be there for each other and heal each other as you graduated high school and caught up with satoru in college, still together and still in your stupid limbo of ‘is there something more’ except worse, and still inseparable three years later after akira’s passing.

it didn’t hurt any less, but the days definitely got easier… some harder than others as the time you spent with her became cherished distant memories, feeling eternally grateful for the way she raised and took care of you, for the work she had done, and for the legacy she had built for figure skating olympians around the world.

and because akira was so good and taught you both just as so, satoru and you had a little name of your own as you’ve been sweeping competitions since the age of thirteen, ninety eight percent unbeatable and competitive as other pairs always knew who you were the minute you stepped onto the ice, eager and curious to see if you would make it into the olympics when the time came just like your mentor had done.

some deemed it cheating— unfair due to the fact that you had a four-time gold medalist olympian training you since childhood, but that assumption quickly diminished after her passing when you both continued to wipe competitions and take trophies home purely based on your talent.

and you both agreed to continue your careers without a coach, a decision that didn’t even need to be thought twice over— and you were twenty and satoru twenty one when the time drew near to try for the olympics.

finally.

“my legs are gonna fall off and my balls are gonna droop to the icy floor if you don’t give me a kiss right now.”

“toru!” you giggled loudly, pushing his face away as he puckered up his lips and made obnoxious kissy noises, pulling you in by the waist. “toru focus we’re on a time crunch—”

“time crunch where?” he whined, stomping his blade down on the ice. “we’ve been at it for so long already i’m cold i’m thirsty and i think we should go to that cute christmas festival patch thing you told me aboouuttt!”

“right now?” you asked. “i don’t know toru… i had a set goal for us tonight and if we don’t get it—”

“oh you damn perfectionist.” he scowled, letting you go and quickly skating to starting position. “fine.”

you gave him a knowing smile and skated over to his dramatic sulking figure, kissing his cheek softly and wringing your arms around his neck, pulling him in.

“let’s run it three more times and then we can go to the festival, okay?”

he jumped up like a little kid, eyes hyper and wild. “really? honestly? truly?”

you nodded, gleaming up at him.

“is this a prank?”

“jesus toru you’re making me think i’m keeping you hostage here with how excited you are—”

“yiiippeeeee!—” he grabbed your upper thighs and lifted you before spinning on the ice, the both of you laughing as he roughly turned until he gradually came to a stop, big goofy smiles on your faces as he did so.

satoru loosened his hold as you slowly slid down against his body, faces close and lovesick as his half lidded eyes looked at you, lips stinging to plant directly over yours after so many years of hopeless pining and avoidance, still refusing to acknowledge the situation, but it glaringly obvious at this point.

“what?” you whispered, your eyes fixed on his lips as your blades touched the ice again.

he softly shook his head, blue eyes greedily drinking in your pretty face as he retracted a hand from your waist and brushed his palm over your hair adoringly, hand raising to cup your cheek gently.

was he about to…?

you swallowed, hands gripping his black t-shirt as you waited… anxious, hoping that he would do what you thought he was about to do.

but satoru squeezed his eyes shut in a grimace and quickly kissed the corner of your mouth before turning his back to you and skating to starting position— leaving you incredibly dumbfounded and disappointed.

satoru’s skin felt like it was on fucking fire as he looked at your stunning doe eyes blinking at him from across the rink, heart pulsing uncontrollably as you slowly skated to him and got into position, neither of you uttering a word about it as you ran the choreography three more times like you had agreed on.

you and satoru have had plenty of moments like that… but lately?

it’s been borderline dangerous with how close you’ve gotten to breaking your unspoken rule.

by the end of practice you and satoru excitedly packed up for the christmas festival, more or less stumbling out of the doors of the rink and locking up before throwing your things in satoru’s car and speeding off to the main plaza, cheesy dorky smiles on your faces as you babbled on about all of the things you were gonna do once you got there.

“the s’mores stand! the s’mores stand!” satoru whipped his head comically back and forth between you and the snowy road. “we have to go there and get five nothing less and maybe more—”

“wait! i wanna get some of that hot chocolate we got last year!” you quickly reached and gripped his shoulder. “the one with the chocolate bits in it! and the whipped cream! and the drizzle—”

“oh fuck yeah how could i forget?” satoru made a turn, the shining glimmering lights of the festival and christmas trees coming into view and riling you both up in pure exhilaration. “i gulped down like four cups of those and then threw up in a bush.”

you laughed loudly and shook your head. “i forgot about thaaaattt! toru you always shove shit in your mouth and throw up we have got to work on that—”

“no we don’t!” he cheesed, reaching over and patting over your hair— the smooth ribbon of your thin bows sliding underneath his palm. “i love sweets even if they hurt me. what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. where there is no struggle there is no strength—”

“the only strength i see is a man hunched over puking his guts out.”

“hey!” he pouted, pulling into the lot before parking and turning off the ignition, the both of you hopping out of the car and locking it as you walked towards the main entrance. “and i’ll do it again so what.”

you giggled and interlocked your fingers with satoru’s. “silly silly.”

the festival was lively— huge decorated christmas trees everywhere you went as twinkling fairy lights adorned every corner and direction of the lots premises, several open stands that continuously wafted chocolate and cinnamon and vanilla throughout the entire night that had satoru practically floating through the air following the scent, kids giggling and running around as the soft familiar tunes of christmas music hummed in the background.

“what do you want for christmas, sweets?” satoru asked while chowing down a giant s’more.

“a kiss!” you quipped, giving him a cute silly look as you blew a bit of air over your steaming hot chocolate.

he stopped chewing.

“really?” satoru spoke with his mouthful. “i can literally give that to you right now c’mere—”

“no toru!” your cheeks buzzed a vibrant pink, completely flustered. “you’re supposed to say a big fat no!”

“now why the fuck would i do that...” he grumbled, shoulders slumping from disappointment as he took another big bite of his dessert.

you giggled, looking at him apologetically before standing on your tippy toes and licking a bit of melted chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

and he blinked at you, dumb and still as his cheeks copied the same exact shade as yours.

my god.

you were about to turn him into a freak.

“okay now you have to kiss me.”

“why?!” you laughed. “you had chocolate on your face! i was helping you out.”

“yeah right you little minx.” he scarfed down the last bit of his s’more and threw his little paper tray in the trash can behind him, putting his hands together and shaking off excess crumbs. “that’s actually the most torturous thing you have ever done to me.”

“dramatic!” you exclaimed, laughs escaping you and increasing as you watched satoru’s flustered face pout and glare at you.

you breathed in deeply and settled down, standing up straight as you took a tiny sip of your hot chocolate and smiled. “now i feel bad.”

“you should.”

“can you forgive me?”

“not unless you kiss me.”

“toru!”

“what?!” he pushed. “baby it’s only fair! really! just once and that’s it. a harmless peck nothing more we aren’t doing anything crazier.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip in thought.

technically he was right… it was just one little peck, entirely harmless and cute and wouldn’t have you both falling off of that thin tight rope you guys were still balancing off of.

this would only shake it a little… but then you’d be fine! right?

you were too far gone in the considerations of his proposal as you looked at his absolutely breathtaking blue eyes and face, somehow looking even more angelic as his pinky cold cheeks and nose and scarf covered neck did nothing but make you fall deeper in love with him than you already were.

how someone could look as good as satoru was beyond you.

“just—” you peered up at him. “just one peck okay?”

his eyes widened.

holy shit.

“yes!” he breathed out. “yes yes just one.”

“toru.” you spoke sternly. “i’m serious.”

he frantically nodded, arms already snaking around your waist and bringing you in.

you both couldn’t believe it.

you were about to have your very first kiss.

the two of you leaned in then— softly, timidly, afraid as satoru’s chocolate breath fanned against your nostrils and filled your lungs, lips coming closer and closer until they met in a simple, solid, tiny harmless peck.

satoru felt like his veins were about to pop and explode at the feeling of your delicate soft lips finally on his, the feeling actually fucking unreal as his fingertips went numb and his body tingled all over.

but it quickly became clear that it was not just one harmless peck.

because when it was supposed to be the time for you both to pull away, you and satoru only opened your mouths and kissed deeper— eyelids blissfully closed as your lips smacked so slowly and tenderly, the two of you actively relishing in the moment and just drinking each other’s mouths in as they moved and shifted, deep breaths through your noses as you daze-fully made out with the faint fuzzy sound of jingle bells and christmas music growing increasingly distant.

you tasted so sweet. just like he’d imagined.

but the moment came to and end when you both snapped your eyelids open in realization and released lips, pupils frantic and wide as you searched each other’s eyes for any sign of anger since you both had slipped up and did way more than just a peck.

but there was nothing. obviously there was nothing like that as your shoulders relaxed simultaneously and bashful smiles crossed your faces.

“you taste like chocolate.” he grinned.

you bit your bottom lip in a smile. “so do you.”

“twins.”

“uh huh.”

“i love you.”

you stilled.

you’ve told each other that thousands of times for years, since childhood.

you’ve always said you loved each other and have both known it was laced with those unspoken feelings you had, and you accepted that for as long as you could remember.

but somehow… in someway… it just felt different this time around. profound. more serious.

“i love you.” you responded.

satoru smiled softly and leaned his forehead against yours, basking in each others authentic infatuation for a moment before pulling away.

“can i get another s’more—”

“no!”

satoru ended up getting his second s’more, and you surprisingly ended up partaking in satoru activities and downed three fucking cups of that hot chocolate you loved so much, your tummy full and about to literally burst, but not really giving a shit as you and him were having so much freaking fun— buying little christmas trinkets from the santa shop and building tiny snowmen in the snowy play area filled with a bunch of kids (satoru literally making a tiny dick for one of the snowman and you immediately destroying it and wacking him), even skating in the rink but purely just for enjoyment and not a single thought of what you do professionally crossing your minds.

you stayed there until it was nearly closing time, money absolutely spent from all the things you bought, but your souls happy and warm as you happily walked to the car so satoru could take you home.

on the drive there, you showcased all of the trinkets you both had bought, a particular one catching your eye that you remembered you hadn’t shown satoru yet.

“oh! i got this one—” you dug your hand in the white plastic bag and pulled out a little snow angel, beautiful and glossy as the angels face blushed and smiled. “at the santa shop!”

“it’s cute baby!” he smiled. “for you?”

you shook your head. “i got it for aki. for the next time we visit her.”

his heart softened, nodding.

you and satoru tried your best to visit her grave as often as you possibly could, sometimes nearing four times a week to pay your respects and chat with her for a little while, filling her in a bit on your lives to bring back the feeling of what it was like to just talk to her in any way you could, like you had the fortune of doing once before.

“it kinda looks like her.. doesn’t it?” he questioned, pointing to the figure.

“it does right!” you expressed. “that’s why i got it… it reminded me of her.”

“she’ll love it.” he grinned, gently running the pad of his finger against your cold cheek before turning his attention back to the road.

you and satoru didn’t mention the kiss again as you were funnily still in shock over it, but the butterflies in your stomachs and the sole memory of it did more than enough as you climbed into bed with an already snoring satoru, him sleeping over for the night (when was he not) as you nudged your way under his arm and cuddled yourself in his chest, his slumbered state pulling you in like muscle memory.

you both only had two more practices left before the international skating union competition. once there, you and satoru had to land a spot in the top three chosen by the national olympic committee to earn an official spot in competing for the olympics, a task that was already vigorous and exhausting and nerve wracking, but one you both were more than ready for.

general admittance to competing in the olympics was essentially fourteen years in the making, one that wouldn’t have been possible in the first place if it wasn’t for akira.

“i think we should add a spin to this lasso lift.” you suggested, you and satoru taking a break from running the routine and standing by the bleachers during practice— watching a recently recorded take of your choreography to point out mistakes that flew under your radars.

“a spin?” he asked. “how sweets.”

“so when you lasso me around into the lift—” you rewinded the video and pointed. “since you’re holding me up over your head and we’re balancing with our hands, i say you maybe push me up to kind of like— propel me to do a triple rotation spin back down.”

“and then from there i catch you?”

“yeah!” you nodded. “and we’re traveling across the ice.”

satoru pursed his lips. “that’s kind of hard… you sure?”

“we’ve done worse toru.” you laughed. “i feel like this would give us more points.”

“oh it definitely would.” he nodded. “okay baby.”

“yay!” you cheered. “let’s practice the lift and propel on the mats first because if not i’m gonna eat shit.”

satoru laughed and sat down on the bleachers with you, quickly taking off his skates before standing and kneeling in front of you, untying your laces and slipping your skates off for you as you cutely smiled, him feeling like your little hero and knight in shining armor even if it was for something so minuscule.

he loved doing things for you.

in the middle of you and satoru practicing the move on the mats, your mother came in through the front doors of the ice rink.

“hi!” she greeted, holding up two wide rectangular boxes. “your costumes came in!”

“oh thank god!” you breathed out, satoru setting you down on your feet before you both ran to see. “i thought they weren’t gonna come in on time!”

“are they cool?!” satoru tumbled out. “do they scream please let me in the olympics?!”

you snorted and shoved his shoulder playfully as you unwrapped your boxes, your eyes shining in delight at the sight of your rhinestoned pale baby blue dress, a shade you purposefully picked out as it matched the color of satoru’s eyes— you lifting it with your fingertips from the box and gushing.

you turned it around and held it up against your frame as satoru pulled his top out— a white, tight long sleeved low cut v-neck button up that you already knew was gonna hug his yummy biceps so good, the thought of it making you bite the inside of your cheek as he checked over his black slacks.

your mother clasped her hands together, holding it to her mouth as her eyes gleamed over the two of you.

“i can’t believe it’s happening now.” she spoke softly, you and satoru diverting your attention to her and smiling. “for so long it was always just a distant thing you know? but now it’s here. actually.”

“fuck i know right.” you responded.

“language, y/n.”

“but i’m twenty!” you whined, pouting as satoru snickered behind you.

your mother rolled her eyes and cupped yours and satoru’s chins under her hands.

“good luck next week, alright? i know you guys will sweep.” she pushed. “make aki proud.”

the smiles on your faces grew, nodding as she squeezed your chins and released.

“oh! satoru—” your mother picked up her jacket and swung her purse over her shoulder. “your mom won’t be home for the night her trip got extended until tomorrow… you can sleep over at our house if you want so you’re not over there alone? or y/n can stay with you?”

“oh okay!” he spoke kindly. “thank you for letting me know!”

she smiled and nodded, hugging you both goodbye before leaving the rink.

your head whipped in his direction.

“toru if i sleep over at your house we can watch horror movies and actually scream as loud as we want without worrying about waking anybody up.”

his eyes bulged open. “oh my god you’re right! dibs i get to choose—”

“fuck!—”

by the end of practice you and satoru mastered the addition you added into the lasso lift, performing it beautifully on the ice over and over again until it was like simple reflex, calling it a day after a while and packing your things up to drive to satoru’s house.

you both took turns stepping in the shower to get rid of the sticky sweat that lingered on your skin, changing into comfy pajamas after as you tiredly settled in satoru’s big comfy bed— him flicking through his selection of horror movies and debating which one to pick.

“do you wanna watch something gory or just horror.”

“gory!” you perked up. “i need to work on not being so queasy.”

“but you seem fine when i throw up?”

“that’s because i’m used to it.” you laughed, head resting on his shoulder as he picked a movie and threw his remote somewhere across the bed, his arm coming to wrap around your tummy and pull you in.

it wasn’t like the selection mattered anyways, because fifteen minutes into the movie you were already falling asleep, hand resting on satoru’s torso as he continued to watch it— for some reason still wide awake even after skating for hours.

your sleepy sudden movements from your hand made him weirdly stiffen and relax every single time, your brows furrowing at the feeling and eyes fluttering open when he wouldn’t stop doing it.

“toru… are you still ticklish?” you mumbled sleepily.

he stiffened again.

“no.” he answered softly. “why..?”

you lazily grinned.

“youuu suureee?”

terror struck him as he sensed exactly what the fuck you were about to do.

“please spare me please spare me—”

you jumped on him and tickled his entire upper body, satoru laughing and gasping as he smacked your hands away and twisted and turned, his strong grip making it hard for you to tickle him at one point as you stubbornly swung a leg over his waist and settled over his lap, attacking him while he yelped and screamed.

“baby!” he gasped. “baby please! have some mercy is this how much i mean to you?!”

you giggled and finally stopped, hands retracting as you settled them on your hips. “that’s what you get for lying to me.”

“i was lying for my safety.”

“uh huh.”

you both grinned, satoru’s eyes occasionally flickering down to you straddling his lap with your pretty plushy thighs and blushing, trying to keep his gaze on yours to refrain himself from doing something a little too mental and weird.

but it was too fucking late, because it took no time at all for the blood to rush to his pathetic dick and harden.

surprisingly though, you were the one that was mental— the feeling of his cock against your clit undeniable as the uncomfortable shifts of satoru’s waist only stimulated it against your little nub and made you bite down hard on your bottom lip, shaky breaths leaving your mouth as it was getting harder and harder for you to restrain yourself from satoru’s godlike existence.

and your body was just not listening as you timidly rolled your hips over his crotch— your short shorts criminally thin as you felt just how big satoru’s length was, mouth watering as your palms timidly settled over his chest for stability, grinding on his cock harder.

satoru’s eyes were blown out as he watched you do something so— so lewd, his mind wandering if you were fully and properly there as something like this was absolutely breaking your unspoken rule, and you were more strict about it than he was.

but he didn’t want you to stop. god no.

at this point, you and satoru were off that metaphorical tight rope and hanging on by two hands— having both failed at keeping each other balanced as you rolled and rolled your hips deliciously on his dick, his chest quickly rising and falling at the feeling of your warm pussy over his groin and at the sight of you using him to get yourself off.

your little needy mewls made his hands tremble as he threw his head back on the pillow, eyes pathetically fucked out over something so simple.

“fuck me..” satoru groaned, hands coming up to rub over his face as his hips lifted to meet your grinding.

him doing that broke you out of your haze and you stiffened, satoru taking his hands away from his face with pinched brows at the sudden halt.

what happened?

“okay!” you laughed nervously, an alarmed expression as you swung your leg off of his lap and scrambled under the covers, pulling it completely over you as you shamefully looked anywhere and everywhere but satoru.

but he was out of it.

undoubtedly out of it now that you did what you did… wanting more, wanting all of you as he snatched the covers off of your frame and you squeaking as a result.

“why’d you stop.” he whispered, thumb raising to trace your bottom lip.

“i don’t— i don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“yes you do—”

“absolutely not—”

“i want you.” he cut you off. “i want you bad and i know you want me too so let’s just— let’s just do this once, okay? once please just to see what it’s like and it’ll never happen again.”

your eyes remained wide as you looked at his desperate frantic ones, his hands already kneading at your waist and thighs.

he was entrancing you into his proposal again, exactly the same way as when you both kissed for the first time at the festival as he leaned down and nibbled at your jaw, slotting himself in between your legs.

“do— do what?”

“fuck.” he mumbled, rolling his hips down on your pussy rough and you gasping at the sensation of his big cock against your clit again.

you whimpered as he rutted into you, hands flying to squeeze his biceps as his wet mouth moved down to your neck, licking and gnawing as he waited for your response.

“but isn’t that—” you stifled a moan. “isn’t that too far toru?—”

“please baby please.” he picked his head up and looked at you. “just once i swear once so we see what it’s like and get it out of our systems and never do it again. i promise.”

he needs to kiss you right fucking now.

your eyes fluttered closed as he continued to hump you, licking your lips as you weakly tried to look into his eyes.

“you swear?” you breathed out. “swear it just once and that’s it—”

“i swear i swear i swear—”

“okay then fuck me toru please—”

satoru nearly cried as he ripped himself away from you to frantically pull off his shirt and pants, him slapping your hands away when you tried to take off your own clothes as he wanted to do it himself— lifting your shirt over your head and downright tearing your shorts in half as he flung them down and across the room, your little pink bra and panties set actually turning him into a complete mess as he hovered back over you and shoved his tongue in your mouth.

you still tasted just as sweet as he remembered.

“been dreaming of—” mmpf— “kissing you since you let me, sweets.”

“yeah?” your lips moved sloppily with his as you snuck a hand in your panties and dipped your fingers in your pussy, collecting your arousal. “you missed me toru?”

“uh huh.” he breathed hotly against your lips, hand coming to slide underneath your bra to cup your bare tit. “every fucking night i’d jerk my dick dry thinking about it.”

his words made your clit twitch as you pushed him off your lips.

“open your mouth.”

satoru did as told without a peep and opened it with his tongue out, your hands coming out from your panties as you reached up and slipped your fingers in his mouth, his lips closing in and sucking everything you had to give him as he salvaged up your arousal.

“fuck—” he released your fingers. “is this from your pussy baby?”

“mhm.” you moaned.

your arousal was even sweeter.

“my god—” he grabbed your wrist and licked a long stripe up your palm. “you dirty fucking thing m’gonna have to taste for myself and see.”

you gasped. “what?”

satoru sat up and pulled your wet panties down your legs, biting down on his tongue hard at the sight of your angelic bare cunt before him, slick and shiny and pretty as you unclasped your bra and spread your legs for him— eager and ready and not a single other thought in your brain besides the one that was screaming for satoru to stick his dick inside you.

“toruuuu!” you whined. “quit staring and fuck me.”

his cock pulsed.

“patience sweets, i wanna taste you first.”

you expected satoru to just lower himself down and shove his head in between your thighs, but you were dead fucking wrong as he stood, grabbed your waist and yanked you high up, sitting you on his shoulders as you squealed and gripped his hair.

“wait toru isn’t this uncomfortable i—”

he scoffed. “fuck no. i’ve been lifting you my whole life baby this is nothing.”

your speech lodged itself in your throat as you felt his tongue lap at your folds and clit, slobbering and filthy as he ate and scarfed you down just like his usual daily sweets, you by far his absolute favorite as he slurped your little pussy up and made you squeal and moan.

satoru walked over to the wall and leaned you up against it, taking your thighs off of his shoulders and placing his hands underneath as he propped you up and spread your legs wider, your jaw dropping at his slimy tongue flicking and him slabbering his mouth side to side rapidly until your legs shook and you saw stars.

“toru—”

he grunted, tongue prodding at your hole and you jumping.

“i think— i think i’m gonna cum and i—” pant “i don’t wanna—”

satoru separated his mouth from your pussy with a squelch and looked up, smiling big.

“too bad!”

“but—”

he spit on your cunt and you gasped.

“i said too bad.”

he dipped back in and fully devoured you as you mewled, messier as he slushed his tongue all over and you’d never experienced something like this, something that felt so fucking good as you started cumming all over his face in record speed regardless of how hard you were trying to hold back.

“yummy.”

he let go and you dropped down as he quickly caught you, turning and throwing you on his bed as he climbed over you— wrapping a hand around his cock and jerking as he kissed and swallowed your lips up again.

“you want me to make love to you or fuck you?” he slopped against your mouth before pulling back, yours and his eyes fluttering open to look at each other.

your legs were still shaking by the eat out he gave you seconds before, finding it hard to get your words together as his handsome deluded face stared at you.

“i— um—”

he placed his lips next to your ear.

“you want me to fuck you like my wife or fuck you like a little slut? or both?”

“both toru please—”

he grinned, coming back up as he parted your legs further open and lined his leaky tip with your hole.

“i can do both!”

satoru pushed himself in and you choked, hands clasping over your mouth as you felt him bully his big cock through and leave you a blabbering crying mess under him— his chest heaving at the warmth and softness and stickiness of your cute gummy walls, his years of imagining and theorizing how you’d feel wrapped around his dick all completely debunking themselves at the real feeling as you whimpered and clenched your hole.

“jesus christ—” he shivered, swallowing thickly as his trembling fingers settled on your waist, him slowly reeling his hips back before pumping in. “you’re— you’re warm.”

you dropped your hands and wiped your cheeks as you hiccuped, the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your walls incandescently euphoric as you embarrassingly already felt yourself wanting to cum again when he had just stuck his dick inside of you— you wanting to ride out this moment for a bit longer and not finish so quickly like you had done on his mouth.

“am i being too mean pretty?” he huffed, thrusts now quick and curt as he gripped your bouncing tits and pinched your perking nipples, the sight of your little tears shamefully turning him on.

you frantically shook your head and tried to clear your brain. “n—no!—”

“good.” he smiled, a little crazed as he let go of your boobs, placed his hands on the backside of your thighs and pushed your knees up to your chest, picking up speed as you squealed and whimpered, utterly taken aback by how rough satoru was being considering the fact that he was such a goofy and kind and loving person on the daily.

oh… what years worth of pent up sexual frustration can do to a man.

satoru whined as you milked his dick, wheezing as he hammered his hips up and slapped against your skin, your body jolting and bouncing uncontrollably as his bed squeaked loud and obnoxiously.

thank god his mother wasn’t home.

“i’ve wanted this i’ve wanted this i’ve wanted this—” satoru babbled, his critical thinking out the fucking window as he just tumbled out totally random but honest confessions as your ears eagerly drank up every word and made your hole tighten.

“yeah?” pant “f—for how long baby?”

“for so long—” he whined loudly, fucking you faster as your mouth hung open and you gripped his wrists for support. “you’re everything i’ve ever w—wanted—”

“i— i’ve only ever wanted you toru— fuck! you’re big.“ you moaned, loving the way a huge deranged smile spread across his face as his hips pistoned into you and his hands pinned you down.

“cum on my dick baby please cum on my dick i want it i want it—”

your toes curled and you squealed, vision flashing white as you let out a high pitched scream at the intense buzzing feeling, your bodies hot and sticky and wet as satoru leaned over and shoved his lips in your ear.

“can i— can i cum inside?” he choked through gritted teeth as he came close to spilling his seed. “please i wanna cum inside—”

“but m’not on the pill—”

“please please baby i beg you—” hah! “i don’t wanna cum anywhere else—”

your eyes fluttered shut at his words and you quickly nodded, his hand cupping your face as he thrusted in one last time and pumped his cum entirely inside you without an ounce of hesitation for the consequences, his horny mind actually crazed and solidifying that there was no fucking way in hell he was gonna accept just friends from this point forward.

what a stupid thought.

“mmm…” you slowly moved your hips a little, feeling his cum all inside your ravished walls as you licked your lips. “your cum feels hot toru.”

not even warm, hot as it slushed and moved inside you with every movement you made, some of it dribbling and coating your outer folds as you bit your bottom lip into a smile and craned your head up to his neck, nibbling and giving satoru tiny kitten licks as he trembled and struggled to stay afloat and not give out his upper arm strength— trying to prevent himself from squishing you.

satoru pressed a soft tender kiss to your cheek then before sitting up and delicately sliding his dick out, running a soothing hand over your tummy as he did so and giving you a lazy smile.

he suddenly raised his pinky to you.

“birds of a feather?” he murmured, other hand running from your stomach over to your thighs now as he just lovingly felt you up, you smiling with rosy cheeks as you linked your little pinky with his.

“birds of a feather.”

you both kissed your thumbs and locked your promise, deciding then that you should probably shower once more before getting into bed to officially sleep— but deciding to shower together as you softly and steamily made out under the misty hot running water, body and mind relaxed as you just swallowed in the ambience of each other, you both not only holding on to your metaphorical tight rope with one hand now, but it actually on the verge of snapping as a whole and sending you both free falling.

and for the next couple of days, you and satoru were feral.

years and years of doing fucking nothing with pure restraint and fantasizing did a number on you both as any chance you got you were making out on your bed, his bed, and even in satoru’s car after your lectures— your hand teasingly going lower and lower until you’d shove a hand in his pants to pull his dick out and pump, your body leaning across the console and mouth going down to bob and suck as he moaned and pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail to guide you and your pretty bows and fuck your mouth just to hear the sounds of you choking, eyes from time to time frantically looking around to see if no one was around as you blowed him.

and you did that basically all of the time for the next three days until the final practice just before the international skating union competition, satoru physically unable to leave you alone and unscathed as he constantly pinned you down to eat your pussy or suckle on your soft tits, his hand tightly clasped over your mouth in your room when your moans would get too loud as he fingered you, his long fingers squelching and abusing your cunt until you were finishing all over his hands again and again.

but you two having actual sex didn’t happen again apart from that night— satoru a man of his word since he promised you would only do it once… unfortunately. but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do other things, right?

except by the final practice, satoru was absolutely fucked off at the fact that neither of you had brought up the potentiality of being more than just friends, especially after doing all of those lewd acts.

he was so sick of it.

and so were you, quite frankly, but instead of being completely over it like satoru, you were afraid… afraid of what could happen and the possibility of losing him if you both indulged, if you let yourselves put your freaking careers on the line.

and satoru was the one person you couldn’t bear to lose. not ever.

“we look good sweets!” satoru cheesed, rotating around in the ice rinks dressing room mirrors as you had your costumes on for dress rehearsal and refinements, both of you glittering and shiny and looking like a professional ice skating pair as you examined yourself, readjusting your straps and hugging your torso.

“cold.” you shivered. “maybe i should’ve had it as a long sleeve… shit.”

he laughed and placed his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down quickly to create frictional heat as you smiled at him gratefully. “nah, it’s cute like this! you’ll warm up once we run it a few times on the ice.”

you nodded, the both of you walking out of the dressing room and to the rink, skillfully putting on your skates before pushing yourself on the ice and gliding across.

“can you show me the uh—” satoru looked to the side in thought once he was on the ice in front of you. “the part where we skate in unison and have our arms up in an L? it’s in the chorus of our music—”

“oh!” you nodded and skated a bit away from him to demonstrate.

“i just wanna see if my form matches yours and we look clean.” he smiled. “and then show me the triple axel after that.”

you gave him a cute thumbs up and pushed yourself off, gliding gracefully and smoothly across the ice as satoru was supposed to be watching you to try and fix his form, but finding himself transfixed once again by the way you seamlessly skated with no sense of struggling effort— arms poised and flowy as your dress moved and fluttered with every twist and turn until you gradually propelled yourself up into the triple axel and landed correctly without a slip or wobble.

the level of difficulty and technicality you skated reminded him of akira— but your style, your movement, and the way you carried yourself was entirely your own.

you made figure skating look beautiful.

you were beautiful.

you slowed down on the ice and skated over to satoru.

“were you able to see? did you match me?—”

“you skate just like her.” satoru spoke softly, and you faltered.

he didn’t need to clarify who he was talking about, as you always knew.

“you’re just saying that.” you pursed your lips to keep yourself from smiling, or crying, you didn’t know.

but a compliment like that meant the absolute world to you.

“i’m not.” he shrugged, skating over to you and taking your hands as he glided with you to starting position. “you always have baby. and i know that’s what you’ve always wanted. i’m sorry i don’t say it enough.”

your eyes softened. “toru that’s not something to be sorry about at all…”

satoru was so kind.

you both skated together and ran the choreography a couple of times, spinning simultaneously and satoru lifting you again and again throughout the routine and still performing your lasso spinning lift successfully, arms around his shoulders and faces close as the wind whipped through both of your costumes and hair from traveling across the ice at such a speed before coming to a sudden choreographed halt at the end of your number.

you had slid down satoru’s body to plant your blades back on the ice when he had enough.

“please stick your tongue in my mouth.”

you choked on your spit and slapped a hand over your mouth.

“toru no! absolutely not we can’t anymore okay—”

“what are we.”

you froze.

“huh?”

“what are we.” he repeated, eyes dead locked on yours and hard. “are we together? are we not? are we friends? what are we—”

“we’re— we’re friends toru—”

“oh fuck no.” he let you go and created a little bit of space between you. “don’t give me that shit we’re not friends.”

“w—well we can’t—”

“i’m your man.” he stated firmly. “i’m your man i’ve been your man for years and i’m tired of avoiding this sweets! it sucks!”

“we’re putting everything at risk if we do toru we can’t!”

“i’m your man.”

“no you’re not—”

he cut you off. “your mouth has been on my dick. we’ve had sex. we’ve kissed we’ve made out we’ve told each other i love you if that doesn’t tell you that we’re together then what the actual fuck?!”

“oh my god toru i know i know!” you groaned, hugging yourself as you anxiously looked at him. “what happens if we break up? huh? what do we do?”

he shook his head. “we won’t.”

“you don’t know that.” you laughed bitterly. “if that happens we lose each other satoru understand that. we break birds of a feather, we ruin our careers, and we ruin us.”

“first of all—” he started. “our birds of a feather promise is to stick together, keep each other safe, and not seperate or fight, is it not?”

“it— it is—”

“so do you really think if we continue to keep each other in this fuck ass limbo of friends that we aren’t already breaking that?” he threw his arms out in emphasis. “we have never been just friends. i’ve known you for fourteen fucking years and we have never been just that.”

you blinked back tears.

“i promise you baby—” he slid closer to you and cupped your cheeks. “that we won’t leave each other. i will fight and try every single damn day to make sure that that shit never happens even though i already know it won’t because you’ve been made for me since birth and we haven’t separated since we’ve met.”

satoru wiped your cheeks. “but i also promise you, that if we continue as just friends, we will break. we’re gonna string each other along so fucking much that we’re gonna go absolutely insane and drive each other away. that is for certain.”

“but— skating—”

“i don’t give an ever living fuck.” he spat funnily and you laughed through your tears. “skating is nothing without you. all the trophies and medallions and the god damn olympics itself with that gold medal is nothing without you. i would give that shit up in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you in my life in exchange.”

“and i would do the same for you toru!” you sobbed, his arms immediately wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in as you sniffled and hiccuped into his chest, him kissing the side of your head repeatedly and soothing a hand down your back.

“don’t cry pretty i didn’t meant to make you cry...” he mumbled, cheek mushed up against your head as your shoulders shook, a huge disgusting pit of guilt in his stomach. “fine it’s okay we can be just friends for a bit longer please don’t cry—”

“no!” you sputtered, pushing him back a little to face him. “i don’t wanna be just friends anymore either toru… it hurts me so much.”

“it does?” he asked softly and you nodded.

“it hurts me too.”

satoru wiped your remaining tears again and fixed the little bows in your hair, a soft liberated smile on his face as he reached down to cup your cheeks and bring your perfect lips to his, kissing you lovingly as the both of you felt like you could finally rest and stop ridiculously hiding your love in the shadows after so many years.

the thin tight rope that you had both been toppling over and rebalancing and holding onto to keep the other from falling, had finally snapped in two, and you and satoru were now in the darkest depths of the truth of what you both were.

except it wasn’t dark at all.

it was light and airy and heavenly, and you wondered why you had been so afraid when there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place, since the one you were falling with was satoru.

silly.

he pulled apart and looked at you, his striking blue eyes and white fluffy hair especially beautiful.

“tomorrow—” he began. “we’re gonna absolutely destroy everyone else there and land a spot in the top three, and then after i’m gonna take you out on a nice dinner and buy every single fucking dessert off the menu, and then i’m gonna ask you to be my girlfriend. okay baby?”

you giggled then, the brightest rosy cheeks on display from the both of you as you eagerly nodded and threw your arms around his neck.

and tomorrow could not come soon enough, because not only were you looking forward to making your dreams a reality and competing against other figure skating pairs from around the world and the olympics itself, but also the thought of officially being satoru’s after years of wishing on little stars and day dreaming about what that would be like for hours on end.

until the moment was here. happening.

the indoor arena was electric and rowdy the minute the competition commenced, you and satoru in absolute awe of the energetic atmosphere as many individuals in the crowd waved their banners or screamed their loved ones names, an ambience very similar to the olympics as you both watched pair after pair perform their hardwork and dedication on the ice, goosebumps on your skin as you fidgeted and jittered.

out of twenty of your countries competing pairs, only three of you would be chosen for the olympics.

and you hoped to god you and satoru would be chosen.

“we’re almost up baby.” satoru patted your head, sitting on a bench in your designated area. “i think it’s two more pairs then it’s us.”

you nodded, nerves closing up your throat as your eyes darted over the rink.

satoru frowned.

“hey.” he placed a hand on your thigh, suddenly wanting to rip your nylon tights off so you could actually feel his skin on yours. “you nervous sweets?”

you nodded again, and he gave you a silly grin.

“don’t be! you’re literally akira the second. we’ll be fine!”

you laughed lightly and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“and even if we don’t land a spot, that’s fine too.” he kissed your head. “it’s our first year anyways… we’ll know the game for next time and we’ll try harder.”

you picked your head up and smiled at him, his words settling your nerves just as soon as the last remaining pair took their places on stage, yours and satoru’s turn right after.

what you didn’t know, was that satoru was just as nervous as you.

but he knew you needed a rock and someone to comfort you— wanting to swoop in like a little hero and save you again… so he kept it hidden.

“fuck i almost forgot!” satoru jumped up and dug into his duffel bag, pulling out a roll of pale baby blue ribbon that matched your dress exactly. “you told me you didn’t have ribbon that matched your costume so i went and tried to look.”

he held it out for you cutely on his palm.

“does this one match?”

you picked up the roll, astonished and mushy inside that satoru actually went out of his way to find this specific ribbon color for you because you had expressed how unhappy you were with the darker shade you had, your eyes looking up at him in complete adoration.

“oh my goodness— thank you toru!”

you quickly undid the bows in your hair and slipped off the former ribbon, digging through your duffel bag for scissors and cutting off pieces from the new ribbon before looping them through your hair and tying, not needing a mirror since you’ve done it for as long as you could remember.

satoru’s cheeks went pink as he looked at your new pretty bows.

“does they look okay?”

“beautiful.” he responded, pecking your lips before taking your hand and leading you to the entrance of the rink.

“okay—” you breathed out. “this is it.”

“what kind of food do you think they’ll have at the dinner place we picked—”

“toru!” you giggled. “not now!”

he smiled sheepishly at you before leaning his forehead against yours.

you stuck your pinky out.

“birds of a feather?”

satoru grinned and looped his pinky with yours.

“birds of a feather baby.”

you both kissed your thumbs and once again, locked your promise.

the announcer over the speakers iterated your names and your country as you and satoru glided across the ice poised and graceful with your arms up, waving at the crowd and giving your mothers a special frantic wave before moving to starting position, unknowing of the way several other pairs and the judges themselves murmured about your reputation and your association with akira.

and you hoped she was watching over you both now. somewhere.

the music begun, contemporary and lyrical as you and satoru slid across the rink, already impressive and entertaining as you performed moves and lifts right off the bat, the sounds of your blades scraping against the ice oddly keeping you in time with your choreography as the number went on.

and you and satoru were feeding off of each other, the chemistry undeniable to a strangers eye that had no idea of your story as you conveyed passion through your expressions, each technical movement bleeding with the fact that you both had been olympic level trained since the age of fourteen and fifteen.

you were halfway through your routine now, the lasso lift coming up next as satoru harbored in his strength so he could properly propel you into that newly added spin.

you skated around him and he lifted you up into the air, the crowd cheering and excited at your beautiful remarkable forms.

except satoru’s hands were slippery.

why?

nerves. he quickly deemed it nerves as he had no time to deliberate since it was almost time to propel you up into the spin, his mind already racing over the fact that the slip in his hands was hindering his strength to keep you up there, and he worried that if he pushed you up, it wouldn’t be enough and you’d come tumbling down— hurting yourself.

but satoru had zero time to decide again as he went with protocol and pushed you up as hard as he possibly could and prayed you would go into your triple axel spin successfully and that he’d catch you.

but the minute that he did, the force yanked him back and his skates flew up in front of him, you falling down and your thigh hitting something sharp before you both went slamming to the ground— sliding apart from each other on the ice.

the crowd screamed and gasped in terror, sounds you were all too familiar with to what you heard three years ago filling both your fuzzy minds as satoru struggled to get back up, his head turning slowly around to see if you were okay and just sore like him—

until he saw your limp body on your side, your back to him with blood slowly pooling out on the ice and staining your pretty blue dress.

satoru scrambled up and skated straightaway in a panic to you before sliding on his knees as he reached you, turning you over and paling as he saw you were unresponsive and out fucking cold.

“baby?“ he shook you. “hey— baby—”

nothing.

why weren’t you answering him? why weren’t you awake?

his brain flashed images of akira’s body the day that she died, suffocating deja vu as the way you looked when he saw you like that on your side was a carbon copy of her from three years ago, his chest picking up speed as you continued to lay limp even after he shook you desperately numerous times like a madman.

and why was there so much blood?

blood that looked sickly bright red against the white ice, blood that stained his sleeves and shirt and hands as he held you up and supported your head, and blood that wouldn’t stop fucking oozing out of your leg as he trembled.

“hey— hey can you hear me?” satoru tapped your cheek rapidly, shaking you gently again with horrified eyes and still not getting a response.

“fuck! why is this happening this isn’t supposed to happen—”

how could he be your hero? how could he stop the blood and wake you up? how could he— how could he fix this how could he take it all back how could he fix this—

“no no no baby please—” he sobbed. “not like aki baby not like her man—”

he shook you again, your head lolling to the side as if— as if you were—

no.

“baby— birds of a feather right? birds of a feather we have to stick together you can’t— you can’t leave right?” he cried, chest heaving and vision blurry and you just felt so cold.

“you’re not leaving you’re not leaving me please not like aki please god—” he cradled you up to his chest in his arms and rocked. “you can’t leave me you’re all i know and i don’t wanna know anything else please baby—”

satoru’s frantic repeated heartbroken wailing echoed throughout the arena as the crowd erupted and moved around in hysteria, him still rocking you in his arms as he turned his head with terrified bloodshot eyes to look at both of your mothers, yours hunched over in a fit of screams and cries as his had her hands in her hair in utter disbelief and tears.

“fuck what do i do!” he sobbed, legs shakily standing as he slipped one arm under your back and the other under your knees, picking your limp body up as he saw a huge group of paramedics run over to him on the ice as he carried you over.

“help—” hic! “h—help me please—”

why couldn’t satoru be your hero when it mattered most?

several of them lowered the stretcher and took you from him, laying your lifeless self on it before hoisting you up and swiftly carrying you away, all of it horrifyingly and painfully similar to akira’s inevitable death.

were you gone?

satoru looked down and saw your baby blue ribbons on the ice, wet and stained with blood, once perfect bows in your pretty hair when he had you awake and breathing.

were you breathing? had you hit your head?

he couldn’t remember.

he couldn’t remember anything but your unresponsiveness, the way your skin was colder than the ice itself as he picked up your ribbons and looked at them in his hands— and the way your blood stretched over for what looked like miles and was still there.

in front of him. taunting him.

was the world so cruel as to take you too?

it wouldn’t. it couldn’t.

you’d never done anything wrong. you’d never treated anybody indifferently as you were sweet and beautiful and talented, always in servitude of others— in servitude of him as you taught him how to ice skate when you didn’t need to at six years old, you already kind and gentle at that young age when you could’ve easily shooed him away like a little bug and told him to fuck off.

and throughout your life too, as he was well aware he was an annoying dramatic piece of shit that whined and cried and ate your stashes of sweets all of the time— but you always just giggling and looking at him with adoration in your eyes, with your cheeky smile, with the little ribbon bows in your hair he loved so fucking much.

oh how he wished he didn’t always take your sweets at that moment. how he wished he wasn’t always an annoying blockhead and made you mad at times with his persistent personality and neediness as he stood there frozen in the rink staring at your blood— dark now and dull, wishing it was him instead of you.

you were knocked out for five days at the hospital.

you and satoru also didn’t make it into the top three at the international skating union competition.

you should’ve, as your score was already higher than any other pair there and only halfway through the routine too— but that’s precisely why you got knocked out.

if you had finished your number, you would’ve landed in the top three, but it ending halfway cut off the opportunity for accumulating more points, and eventually another pair surpassed your halfway score by two points.

but satoru didn’t give a shit. fuck the olympics and fuck the international skating union while your body laid still on the hospital bed for hours on end, him refusing to leave your side as he sat there and stared off into space with nothing in his head but hatred for himself as it was his fault that this happened and his blade that sliced you— eyes red and sunken and tired and refusing to eat or drink.

you had hit your head on the ice, but thankfully the trauma wasn’t anywhere near the severity of akira’s, it only inducing a strong concussion and sending you flying out of consciousness upon impact.

but it was the loss of blood that was the problem.

you had lost so much, too much of it.

it made you weak and frail and unable to do much and satoru worried that that’s what was going to take away your fighting chance of survival.

“you should go home satoru…” your mother sighed, standing by the door of your hospital room, her own eyes red and swollen.

he shook his head no silently.

“she’ll still be here… you need to eat something or sleep please. you look awful.”

satoru smiled weakly and shook his head again.

“m’fine.”

your mother pursed her lips to the side and she sighed again, nodding.

“i’ll come by early in the morning, alright?”

he hummed, giving her a tiny wave as she left and closed the door behind her.

satoru had brought a roll of pink ribbon from your little white box in your room, unrolling the pieces he chose and lifting his hands, taking the ends of your hair and trying to tie little thin bows the way you always did, but huffing softly in irritation when they just looked like shit.

he undid the one he was working on and settled for feeling the material of the ribbon between his thumbs instead.

satoru brought you bouquets everyday too.

sometimes three at a time as he continuously swapped out old flowers and replaced them with new ones, changed their water and poured fresh quantities into each vase to keep them alive, and often picked some more from the hospital garden when he went down to get some fresh air for a minute— the least he could do for nearly killing you.

and satoru had a lot of time to think while he waited for you to wake up— bitter and resentful at the world for letting him sit there healthy while you were out, so much so that he started thinking stupid shit like how he wished you would’ve forgotten him and dismissed his yapping dreams about ice skating when you met so you would’ve been an independent skater instead, so you then wouldn’t have gotten hurt by his idiocy and you wouldn’t be laying in a hospital bed like you were now.

or swapped places. him instead of you so he could beat up the fucks that took akira away and beat up zeus or— or aphrodite or whoever the fuck that was responsible for keeping him from you so he could come back to you… unsure if you were doing the same thing as he stared at your resting face.

you should’ve just left him behind.

but he was sleeping when you woke.

arms propped up and crossed next to you on the hospital bed, his cheek mushed up on them and face to the side as you blinked your eyes open and was straight up confused, not a single memory of the incident flitting through your mind… until it did.

and it hit you bad.

your mind reeled with a pounding headache, tears prickling your eyes at the events that plagued through your mind— a part of you knowing there was absolutely no way you and satoru made top three and gutted about it, feeling shaken from the memory alone of you falling and hitting the ice.. but grateful.

grateful to be alive, for you knew akira wasn’t as lucky.

was it because of her that you had lived? had she pulled some strings to change your fate?

your eyes trailed down to a sleeping peaceful satoru, your gaze softening at how tired and broken he looked, bags dark and purple as he snored away next to you, your hand lifting and delicately settling over his fluffy white hair as you smiled that he was here next to you— caressing.

satoru shot up wide awake then as you jumped and retracted your hand, the both of you alarmed and frantic.

“baby?” he grabbed your hand and felt around it, feeling warmth for once as he stood up straight and shoved back one of the sleeves of his hoodie.

“you’re awake? are you actually?—” he pinched his arm hard over and over and you giggled.

you giggled— the sound filling his ears and lifting an undeniable dark ton off of his shoulders as he relaxed, tears automatically brimming his eyes.

“i thought i fucking killed you sweets.” his voice shook, arms gently coming around you and pulling you into an embrace.

“killed me?” you frowned. “toru what are you talking about—”

“oh god you have amnesia—”

“no!” you laughed. “what do you mean by almost killed me? you didn’t do anything.”

“i did everything.” he spoke flatly. “i fucked up that lasso lift. i pushed you up too hard and we fell. i cut you with my blade i made you bleed—”

“toru that was an accident.” you pulled back and your chest hurt over the devastated look on his face, wiping his tears and kissing his nose. “remember— aki’s partner felt just like this and we had to tell him too it was an accident. you can’t control something like that. at all. it’s just unfortunate circumstance.”

“i know but i still feel like—” he wiped his eyes and swallowed. “i still feel like i could’ve done something different. it should’ve been me and not you and i should’ve—”

“toru don’t even don’t think about things like that.” you shook your head. “there wasn’t anything you could’ve done, baby. and that’s okay.”

you gently scooched over on the bed and patted the spot next to yours, satoru immediately climbing and settling in, clinging on to you as he placed his head on your chest with his arm firm but careful around your waist, suddenly feeling how exhausted he actually was from the days he spent restless.

you couldn’t have imagined the pain satoru must’ve gone through waiting for you to wake up. you didn’t know how he even fucking managed as you would’ve been torn into bits and pieces not knowing if he was going to live or not, looking at his limp bloody body the way he had to look at yours and it reminding you of the event that brought you both the most trauma and grief.

you couldn’t believe you almost went out the same way.

satoru confirmed your thoughts later and filled you in on the results of the international skating union competition, rubbing salt into the wound a little more upon learning that you landed fourth, nearly there as you couldn’t help but cry a bit in your hospital bed when he told you that you could’ve had a spot, satoru hugging you and reassuring you that you’d both have your shot at it in the next four years.

your family was relieved that you were awake, tons of people piling in and giving you sweets and food that satoru hungrily eyed and gawked over, you laughing and passing him the ones he particularly enjoyed most as you conversed with your relatives.

and recovery was thankfully easy— doctors orders being just you taking it light and being careful not to bonk your head against anything, as well as taking care of the laceration on your leg— changing the bandage frequently every morning and night, satoru insisting he help you with that and with many other things that you needed as he tried to make up for what he still thought was his fault.

two weeks had gone by of just rest and peace and no figure skating, thinking you and satoru deserved this break, but also secretly petrified of stepping on the ice again after what had happened— neither of you wanting to hurt the other as you avoided the topic of training for the meantime at all costs.

“maybe we should work at a water park.” you suggested one day, the two of you seated on a park bench through the chilly mid january air as you shared a plate of chocolate drizzled strawberries you got from some nice lady and her fruit stand. “be lifeguards!”

“oh hell no!” he spoke with his mouthful before swallowing, readjusting the black round sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “you think i’m gonna be fine with watching random old men savoring after my wife in her little red bikini while i’m off saving some drowning kid? oh no thank you. let the kid drown.”

“toru!” you laughed, smacking his shoulder. “okay then what else?”

“janitors.”

you shrugged. “i like to clean. sometimes.”

“and your entire body is covered in those jumpsuits no stinky old men looking at—”

satoru’s phone buzzed against his jeans and he paused and pulled it out as you giggled, him barely glancing at the caller i.d before answering.

“hello?”

you mindlessly carried on plopping strawberries in your mouth and chewing.

“this is he…. oh hello! yes! how are you?”

you eyed satoru quizzically at his sudden formal change in tone, his eyes glued to the cement below.

“uh huh… really? o—okay! no yes for sure! thank you so much for the opportunity!”

opportunity?

you slowed your chewing and nudged his shoulder gently, wanting him to give you some kind of sign as to who it was on the other line.

“okay, we’ll keep in touch! thank you again!”

satoru slowly removed his phone away from his ear as the other line went dead, staring at his screen and you curiously leaning over only to see his call history log, a random number at the top.

“holy fuck.”

“what?!” you leaned in closer and tried to catch his eyes with yours, his shocked wide gaze slowly flittering to your face.

“that was the national olympic committee.”

you froze.

“shut the fuck up.” you covered your mouth. “toru what did they say what did they say—”

“one of the pairs that made it in the top three got disqualified.” he spat out quickly, shooting up and digging his fingers into his hair as he walked back and forth slowly in disbelief, spinning to face you. “i— i don’t know why i didn’t ask but we got bumped up.”

silence.

“we—” your chest rose and fell erratically, eyes darting around as satoru knelt down and grabbed your hands.

“baby we made it.” he tightened his grip. “we’re competing in the olympics—”

you squealed and jumped up and down and pulled satoru in, the both of you comically bouncing off the walls as you wailed and cried and blabbered on about how you couldn’t believe it and how a chance like this was even given to you, satoru lifting you and spinning you around but stopping and freaking out and apologizing profusely over your injured leg, you shaking your head and laughing, kissing him in return.

“we can’t avoid skating toru.” you spoke once you and him had settled down. “it’s literally what brought us together… and what brought us to aki. and even from you spinning me around like that it reminded me how much i missed skating with you.”

“i feel the same sweets.” he smiled, big and bright and handsome as he leaned over and kissed your rosy cheek. “i miss lifting you up and catching a glimpse of your ass underneath your—”

“toru!”

even though you and satoru were finally on board and accepting of bringing skating back into your lives, it wasn’t to say at all that the fear itself went away when you tried to do lifts or spins in the air with each other— apprehensive and scared as you practiced on the mats way more than necessary before moving choreography to the ice, satoru multiple times chickening out and needing a moment as he was petrified of hurting you again, and you glued in place at the thought of falling and slamming on the ground when you had just survived mostly unscathed.

but this wasn’t the time to be afraid over that anymore, and if akira were here, you both knew she’d smack you upside the heads and tell you to move… to get on the ice and do the sport you both loved and cherished most.

to finalize your dream and make it a reality.

and throughout the month that you and satoru spent before the commencement of the olympics, you trained like never before— no excuses as you worked tirelessly day and night with sweat literally dripping from your faces until every single goal was met and beyond, until every single throw from satoru was perfected and until every axel from you was delivered.

sometime during this month too, satoru finally got to take you out on that romantic candle lit dinner like he promised and asked you to be his girlfriend, him giddy and grinning the whole time and literally spoiling the moment as he meant to give you a chocolate dessert plate that said ‘will you be mine’ in chocolate syrupy letters, but accidentally eating it and smearing the words when he confused your plate with his, smacking his forehead repeatedly on the dining table as the silverware clattered— muttering about how dark it was and how he couldn’t fucking see, but you laughing so fucking much and clutching your stomach that your makeup smudged up at the corner of your eyes.

satoru was reminded again how much he loved you that day, because anyone else would’ve gotten tremendously annoyed and called him an idiot, but you…

you just giggled. giggled and hiccuped like always while he stared at you softly.

the love you and satoru shared stretched far beyond the concepts of what a platonic and romantic relationship was.

the love you and satoru shared was sacrifice. genuine sacrifice and yearn and absolute unadulterated love as you both without another thought would drop your careers for each other, would swap places if it meant the other would be safe from harm’s way, and would endure years of swallowing and pushing back feelings if it meant just keeping one another in your lives forever.

because that’s what birds of a feather was for to begin with.

a promise to stick together. a promise to keep each other safe.

a concept so pure and devoted that it translated onto the ice like no other pair when it came time for the olympics.

“you ready sweets?” satoru breathed out as you both stood in front of each other by the outside of the rink with interlaced fingers, shaking each other’s jitters out. “no matter what happens, we’ve already come so far and done so much, okay? we’ve done what we needed to do.”

“mhm!” you quickly nodded, satoru leaning down before you both rested your foreheads against each other’s with massive smiles on your faces, thunderous cheers echoing throughout the giant arena totally drowned out in your ears as you stared into satoru’s sparkling blue eyes.

“make aki proud.” you repeated softly, and he nodded, you hoping once again she was watching over you both.

you both stuck your pinkies out at the same time and looped them together.

“birds of a feather?” satoru beamed.

“birds of a feather.”

and you kissed your thumbs before sealing your promise.

you both watched the pair that you were going right after perform their routine, beautiful and difficult as you gnawed at your bottom lip in distress.

“toru…”

“yeah baby?”

“some of these pairs are crazy good…” you spoke over the music. “i’d honestly be happy with getting in the top twenty i don’t know if we can—”

satoru scoffed and shook his head, a sly smile as he looked over the rink with his arms crossed.

“nah, we’d win.”

and just like akira had done in her final olympic year— in her final moments, you and satoru made it known that it was your debut, that you had been hungry and desperate for this moment since the ages of six and seven, that you’d been raised and trained by a four-time olympic gold medalist for a decade as you executed the most technical and intricate moves and turns, you and satoru moving as one on the ice and identical as he took your hands and glided on the ice with you, raw emotion in your expressions that read love so clearly that it was impossible to miss.

with each lift, with each time satoru took you in his arms and spun, and with each time he simply held you close and tenderly to his chest as his blades scrapped across the ice with your pretty bows in his view— were all reminders for the two of you that partner figure skating was nothing without satoru and nothing without you.

the privilege of having another way to convey just how much you loved each other through the language of artistic expression and skates and ice, through the feel of each other’s skin, was one you nurtured and looked after and loved as the wind whipped through you and satoru due to the speed of your skates, performing quadruple axels like nothing while dropping the jaws of other figure skating pairs.

and because of this fact alone, how you both truly appreciated each other’s entities and had the indescribable power to correlate that into competitive sport—

was the reason why you and satoru won gold that day.

you and him, on your knees, gripping and hugging one another so hard and crying tears of joy as you both had come so far and gone through so much to get to where you were now, your dream now a complete and total reality as you stepped up onto that podium during the medal award ceremony just like akira had done— representing your country excellently with a big fat gold medal hung over your necks and a big fat kiss from satoru as he lip locked with you up there, flashings of cameras and bouquets and teddy bears scattered all throughout the ice in dismay.

“i love you!” satoru yelled to you over the roaring as you waved at the crowd, your mothers crying and blowing their noses and taking pictures from the edge of the rink as you and satoru cackled and pointed at them.

“i love you, toru!”

“no like seriously!” he put his waving hand down. “i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. thank you for recognizing that i have love and dreams too baby and for not forgetting about me even when i’ve been the most annoying dipshit of your life.”

“you’ve never been that to me my god toru! where is this coming from?” he hopped off the podium once you two were given the all clear and he held a helping hand out for you to take, you doing so and carefully stepping down.

“reeaally?” he cheesed, cheeky and silly as his big pearly white smile made your cheeks flush. “so you love me then?”

“i literally would not be with you if i didn’t—”

“hooray!” he cheered, throwing his arms up as flower petals flew from his bouquets and around. “my girlfriend loves me! and we’re gonna have rough passionate olympian sex in our hotel room—”

“toru!—”

the love you and satoru shared wasn’t something silly like ‘i like you, you like me.’

it was call me when you get home.

have you eaten yet?

here, let me help you.

whatever you need.

yours and satoru’s souls were exactly the same— blended, intertwined, and stubbornly knotted together as no amount of tug and pull could unravel you both apart, satoru finding over the years that loving you was like muscle memory from the moment he met you, his nerves and reflexes gravitating him towards you on the ice that first time even when he knew there was a huge chance of him slipping and falling, but not being afraid of it at all as long as he just got to you, convinced he knew you in another life as you just felt so familiar the moment he saw your pretty little face.

and you’re so glad that he did get to you… that he stayed with you.

fourteen years of ice cream trips and sleepovers and horror movies from the moment you were teeny tiny babies to adults, experiencing the hardships of your teenage years of loss and grief, to then adulthood and college as you had the privilege of learning to navigate it with another being that was just like you, two little birds with no sense of direction other than to each other.

and it was all thanks to one woman and one woman alone.

“i honestly believe that if she was there, she would’ve brought one of those confetti poppers with dye in it and set it off.” you commented, you and satoru sitting on the grass at her grave site as you leaned your head on his shoulder and his head on top of yours, having literally just come off the plane from being at the olympics— your countries olympic button up thick jackets adorning your figures as your gold medals gleamed radiantly against the sun.

“i wish she was there.” satoru hummed, and you nodded softly in agreement.

“me too… but i’m sure she was! as a little birdie.”

he chuckled, finding your hand and interlacing your fingers as you stared at her tombstone like you’d done so many times before already… except this time it was bittersweet, you having accomplished what the three of you had strived so hard for at last.

“i miss her.” you murmured. “i miss her cussing.”

your eyes flickered down to her peace offerings, the little snow angel trinket you had gotten her still pretty and glossy and her as it sat happily on her stone platform.

satoru picked his head up and kissed the top of your head, propping his chin up on it.

“i miss her too baby.” he responded softly. “everyday.”

“but— i can’t thank her enough for giving us the bullets to fire with for skating.. y’know..” you ran the pad of your index finger along her tombstone, rough and scratchy as you traced little hearts along the edges.

“and she brought us closer together, did she not?” satoru pointed out.

she did.

a woman who was clumsy and loud and erratic with the biggest potty mouth you had ever heard that was passed down to you and satoru in the blink of an eye… but man did she know what love was as she taught it to you and reminded you both of exactly what it was each and every day.

you and satoru had accepted the fact that your hearts would never be whole again, for akira had taken half of them elsewhere and into the depths of the unknown.

but you were okay with that. completely and utterly okay with that.

for love had no limits.

you wanted her to keep it, as you and satoru stitched the remaining halves of your hearts together to create a new whole, as there was no one else you both would rather have that part of you with them forever besides akira.

and yours and satoru’s stitched up hearts grew increasingly bigger and fonder even after a couple of years later, even after winning three more olympic gold medals, you and him back at the same place in front of akira’s grave like always, sitting and laughing and chatting— but with two little baby toddlers that were half of you and half of satoru as they blubbered on about ‘mama aki’ and her trophies, a delicate twinkling ring on your finger and a golden band around satoru’s as your little family had a picnic over her final resting place.

“papa!” your son exclaimed, satoru immediately turning his attention to him in the midst of scarfing down a turkey sandwich.

“yes my offspring?”

you playfully glared at your husband.

“why do your eyes look scarier in the day?”

“HAH!” you slapped a hand over your mouth to hush your cackling, satoru’s face absolutely taken aback and offended.

“they do!” your daughter giggled. “they do! they do!—”

“baby do something!” satoru whined, shoulders slumping as he threw his head back. “i’m being bullied by five year old’s!”

you giggled and kissed his cheek, his pout quickly turning into a soft little grin as his face flushed pink.

“but your papa’s eyes are pretty you guys! and they match yours!”

“mmm— nope! scary!”

your two twin toddlers giggled uncontrollably as they thought being mean to their dad was the funniest thing in the world, you laughing with them as satoru flopped back dramatically and completely laid down on the grass with his eyes looking straight up at the bright sky.

“s’okay.” he spoke flatly. “if even my pretty little wife thinks my suffering is funny i’ll just burn my eyes to a crisp—”

“toru!” you slapped his knee. “too graphic in front of the kiddies.”

“but my suffering!—”

“mommy mommy!” your daughter tugged at your sleeve and pointed to the top of akira’s tombstone, a cute perfect white and brown bird perched up on the edge and peering curiously at the four of you, the creature not alarmed whatsoever of your children’s sudden movements as they scrambled to get closer to it.

satoru propped himself up with an elbow and stared before you both locked eyes, knowing growing smiles on your faces as he fully sat up— leaning and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting it linger.

aki.

and it was like you and satoru were reminded again of your promise that you still told each other every day.

a promise that consisted of your years together… of your love, of your undying fervor of sticking together, of your need of keeping each other safe…

of birds of a feather.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire

[luveline]

we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k

“Spencer, are you coming in?” 

The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 

“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 

He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 

You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 

“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 

Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 

“Shot at.” 

“Is it bad?” 

Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 

He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 

You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 

“I'm looking at you.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 

Of course he knows that. 

“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 

“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 

Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 

Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 

He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 

Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.

“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 

“It's not your fault, Spence.” 

“What would you call it?” 

You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 

“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 

He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 

“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 

Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 

“I told you it's not your fault.” 

“For not being here to hold your hand.” 

Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 

“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“What was I supposed to think?” 

He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 

This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 

They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 

“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 

He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 

“Forever, then.” 

For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 

[remuslupinslittleslut]

No, like this

Anon asked: I need more of the teach me dynamic like that was so hot. The way Remus helped Sirius ate you out using his hair holy fuck that was hot. maybe it’s like Remus gets jealous cause it’s close to the full moon so he shows the boys how to properly fuck a girl and it’s super rough maybe and then James and Sirius are just there jerking off like super turned on by the scene cause wow Remus is really good at making reader be loud.

And YES! I love this dynamic and this ask was so very lovely and gave me so much inspiration THANK YOU BABE <333

Here's a very jelly remus, pre full moon, showing his friends how to fuck his girl hot damn

Masterlist. (Teach us part one. And part two. Though it can easily be read on it's own, just the same dynamics <3)

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Remus growled.

You were laid out on your back, James on top of you, hips moving against yours at a steady rhythm. It was good, really good. But the full moon was getting closer, and Remus was aggravated, jealous and very territorial of you.

James whined at the harsh words, and you kissed his nose telling him, “You’re doing well darling, keep going.”

He did, though not quite as confidently as before. His head came down to rest in the crook of your neck, and you felt his cheeks were heated from embarrassment. You and Remus had taught both James and Sirius a lot since your first night together, and they’d both made great progress, all the while Remus was perfectly okay with sharing you – as you also did share him with his friends.

James had just started to get it right with each thrust again – making you moan and whine, telling him what a good boy he was being – when Remus interrupted yet again.

“No, move,” he said, standing up and pushing James off of you, making all three of you gasp (Sirius wouldn’t miss this show for anything in the world), “let me show you how to fuck her properly.”

It was, to put it plainly, rude. You would have to talk to Remus about it later, that he can’t act that way with your littles, but he was so sexy, towering above you, hands tugging at his buckle, trying to free himself for you. You knew what was to come would be life changing-ly amazing, and you did not want to get in the way of Moony when he was tearing at the seams of Remus like this.

Remus was finally naked, standing next to the bed, where James still lay, “I said move.” James did, shying away, trudging toward Sirius’ bed.

“Arms above your head, darling,” he said, steadying his body above yours. You did as you were told, knowing not to argue at this moment. “See, you’ve gotta tell a slut what to do, she’s too dumb to think on her own.” This wasn’t really true – though you loved letting go of all your common sense to let Remus take full control, so you did.

He didn’t give any warning before he pushed himself into you, widening your tight little hole, taking your body from you. “Little sluts like this don’t need to be warmed up, she can take it, right love?” You nodded, knowing you hadn’t been given permission to speak.

His hips snapped against yours at a brutal pace, it almost hurt, you knew it would later, but the way the head of him pushed against your walls felt too good. While he was fucking you, he kept narrating the whole thing, “yeah, that’s right, touch your little cocks to my girl, hear that? My girl. You’ve gotta move faster, harder, like this.”

It was so hot, having your life fucked out of you by your boyfriend while your other two partners watched, touching themselves. You could finally show them the Remus you knew, the Remus who could make sure you didn’t walk straight for days – he’d been so nice and soft since you invited James and Sirius, but now he was back, with his back-arching, toe-curling, orgasm-giving sex.

You hadn’t been quiet for a while, and when your orgasm washed over you, the sounds coming from somewhere deep in your throat only got louder. “There you go, see this, this’s how you make a girl come.”

Pulling out of you, Remus kissed you once, deep and hard and dirty, before he flipped you over, pulling on your hips to make your ass stick out. Leaning down over you, he kissed down the back of your neck, biting and pulling at the skin, hard teeth scratching soft skin. “You ready, little one?” He asked, almost softly, and when you nodded your head he pulled back and pushed in, in one sweeping motion. The angle from this position was even better and you felt your eyes roll back as you dropped your head against the pillow, feeling another orgasm come creeping.

Holding himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other kept a tight hold on your hair. “Now this is how you fuck a girl real good, she won’t be able to think straight when I’m done with her, shame you’ll never be this good,” the cockiness could be heard in Remus’ voice as his hips kept pushing against yours, your ass shaking with every thrust. “Go on then, come, all over your hands from watching my girl take my cock, go ahead… You too, princess, go ahead, let go f’me…”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered some grunting from the other bed, though most of your senses were filled with Remus, the wet sound of him thrusting in and out of you, the smell of him on the pillow, of both of your juices mixing somewhere further down on the bed, the taste of him left on your tongue, the sight of a veiny arm holding him up, the feeling of him all over you, against your back, the hands in your hair, his cock inside you, pulsating and ejaculating, filling you up with white, hot spurts of cum, the feeling of it running out of you, the wet patch on the bed between your legs.

And then… nothing.

When you woke up, it was to a hot, wet rag on your face. “Hi, love,” Remus said, kissing your forehead, hand holding your cheek still. “Welcome back, you went out for a bit, but don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you now, okay baby?”

Smiling, you reached your hands up – not a small feat, considering your arms felt like boiled spaghetti – and took a hold of his face to pull him back down to you, pressing your lips against his.

“And now this is how you perform proper aftercare, don’t ever skip that,” he said, a pointed look directed at his friends, who he was about to treat with some of the same love that you’d received.

Tagged: @remussbitch

[djarincore]

i picture you when you are all alone

TAGS: smut, just a man thinkin' about his lovely girlfriend, unedited I'm tired, minors I'm begging you DNI, WC: 595

A/N: thank you to sleep token for fueling me. I think about this line and song too much <333

PART 2

To say Simon thought about you often when he was away would be an understatement—he thought of you always. 

He thought of the sweet, sweet girl—his girl—who was waiting for him to come home. Who would take him in with open arms. The girl who loved him so deeply, despite how fucked up and flawed he was. 

And when he closed his eyes at night—in a tiny bunk, bruised and battered, thousands of miles away from home—he thought of you, bare and splayed out on your shared bed. So perfect and all his. 

You'd be needy, desperate. It's been too many nights alone, without his cock filling you properly. Your fingers would dance over the hem of your panties, thighs rubbing together as you debated on whether or not to touch yourself. It wouldn't be the same, of course. Nothing would satisfy you the way Simon could. 

You'd pull your lower lip between your teeth and glance to his side of the bed. It's cold and empty; his scent still lingers on the pillow. You'd take the pillow in your arms and inhale deeply, gripping the cool fabric, pretending it was his shirt. You'd pretend the soft cushion was hard muscle beneath your fingertips. 

One hand would slip into your panties. When your finger brushes against your clit, you whimper. It really was too long since you last felt him. You miss his calloused hands, roughly tracing your figure. 

If he were there, he'd start at your neck, smirking at the way you swallow when his thumb traces your throat. Then, he'd path his way down your breast, playing with your nipples until you were whining for something more. He'd move on soon, following the curves of your body, until finally ending on your cunt. 

Your fingers would work pathetically, trying to replicate his movements, but even they aren't enough. You would try slipping one finger into your dripping pussy, then two, pushing your fingers slowly and working towards a climax. 

Two of your fingers don't work, though. They're not as thick or long as his. They don't reach in you the same way. Your fingers can't press that spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch. 

Your fingers grip his pillow in frustration and your legs spread wider. Another, you think. And a third finger forces its way into your tight cunt. Still, nowhere near what he could do for you. 

You'd stay like that—riding your own fingers, wishing it were him—until you met the crest of your pleasure. Your mouth would drop open as your breath picked up. Your cunt would pulse around your fingers, greedily trying to suck them back in. And you'd come with his name on your lips. 

He thought of you in bed, panting. The rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers, covered in your release, slip from your panties. 

He let out a breath. God, he wanted to taste you. He wished it was him in that bed with you—his fingers, his cock, all bringing you over the edge over and over again. 

When his burner phone began to ring in his pocket, a knowing smirk crossed his face. When he dug the phone out and answered, without having to look at the caller ID, it was you on the other end. 

“Simon?” Your voice was quiet, almost breathless. It was early where you were. 

“Yes, love?”

He could hear you shift and wet your lips. “I had a dream about you…”

“Really?” He chuckled, “Because I was just thinkin’ about you too.”

[writingsonsaturn]

Tim's fiancee gets arrested when a cop (let's say Lucy or someone) (this is after they are rookies) arrests her because she looks like a suspect they already caught, his fiancee told them she was engaged to Tim but they didn't believe her and Tim gets mad at the officer - <3

wrong place, wrong time - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: very sorry about how long its taken me to write, had a lot of stuff to do this week lol! this ones a little short <333

word count: 850

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Waking up with Tim being gone was normal, even after he had left the military his day continued to start at 6 am sharp. Although on weekends he would cut himself some slack to hold you until you were ready to get out of bed and begin with your various tasks you two needed to get done.

Today didn’t start off any different, waking up only a few hours after Tim had, at a ripe 8:30am.

Rubbing your eyes you flung your legs to your left, your warm feet chilling almost immediately at the cold wooden flooring of you and Tim’s shared bedroom. A shiver shot through your nerves and up your spine, you sighed lightly at the shift in temperature and made your departure to the bathroom.

The spring air seeped into the sunlit room, the fresh morning breeze filling your soul with flowers and bright colors. Music filled the house whilst you finished your morning routine making breakfast and feeding Kojo.

You started out your afternoon deciding to head to the local library, wanting to return a book you had borrowed before you were charged with a late fee. 

The library wasn’t full since it was the afternoon and school was still in session, “hello! i’m here to return a book” you said in a chipper but quiet tone. The librarian smiled and took the book, checking it back into the system and sending you on your way.

Your next stop was a supermarket, you had only a handful of items that were needed. Tim had run out of coffee filters this morning and you needed more shampoo, you also opted to get a new water bowl for Kojo, not that he needed one, you just thought it was cute.

As you walked out to your car you were stopped with a taser pointed directly at your torso, “get on your knees with your hands up!” a woman yelled.

Your confused manor caused your reaction to be delayed, causing the police officer to yell once again. “Get down on the ground with your hands up, now!” you immediately get down to your knees and put your shaking hands up. 

“You got the wrong person, I swear! Call Tim Bradford, he's my Fiancé!” you pleaded, the cop with the name ‘Chen’ on her shirt just scoffed and laughed you off while stuffing you in the back of her squad car.

The ride to the precinct was uncomfortable, the cuffs were digging into the skin of your wrists. “Officer please, I'm not whoever you think I am. All you have to do is call Bradford, he’ll tell you exactly what I'm telling you know” you tried to plead your case once again, but it fell on deaf ears.

“Tim doesn’t have a fiancé, he was my T.O, i think i would know a big detail like him having a girlfriend” she laughed, feeling as though it was ridiculous to even entertain your words.

As you were brought into the station to get your picture taken and be put into holding, Chen passed you onto another officer and went to tell Grey about her catch. 

To Lucy’s surprise everyone had already been packing up the evidence and started paperwork, “what’s going on?” Lucy questioned, “we caught the killer, she was at her parents place shooting up when we got there” Tim explained. Lucy was confused, “so if you caught the killer, who do i have in holding?” the question hung in the air, Tim looking at her with perplexed eyes.

Lucy walked Tim over to holding and that’s where Tim saw you, “oh thank god!” you exclaimed seeing Tim. He hurried over to you taking your cuffs off and waving off the other officers. “Chen, why is my fiancé sitting here in cuffs?” Tim sternly asks, Lucy looks down, stuttering and trying to explain herself.

“Tim it’s fine, she was just doing her job” you did your best to defend Lucy, “No y/n, this is not okay, if it had been anyone else this would be a lawsuit” he turned his body at you but his tone was directed at Lucy.

“Tim i’m sorry, I didn’t know we had already caught the suspect and she looked exactly like our suspect” Lucy tried to explain, stumbling over her words.

“You are going to go to Grey and explain everything, lucky for you, y/n isn’t going to file a report against you” Tim assigned Lucy, to which she scurried away. “Are you okay? oh christ your wrists,” his questions and concerns came at you with speed.

“Tim, baby, I'm okay,” you smiled trying to calm him down. Tim held your wrists in his hands, and kissed them. He hoped his love would be enough to soothe your angry red skin, “i’m sorry, this shouldn’t have happened” he persisted. 

You shut him up with a kiss, “drive me to go pick up my car” your smile made him relax. “Yes ma’am” he laughed, telling Grey where he was going, and walking out hand in hand with you, still profusely apologizing.

[the-original-skipps]

|| When you move in together. || Wind Breaker ||

sooo uh funny story I actually posted this but it kinda disappeared i really tried finding it so i decided to post it again lol @kajibunny this is for you my love!! you’re the absolute sweetest <333

: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Kaji Ren. Umemiya Hajime.

❥ Sakura teared up when you asked him if he wanted to move in together. For the first time in his lonely life he will get to share a home with someone and that someone is none other than his most precious person in the entire world, you. Days leading up to the move, he had certain doubts plaguing his mind that maybe you'd come to regret this decision but you quickly eased his worries with your soothing words and gentle touch. Sakura doesn’t own a lot of belongings himself but the things he treasures are the things given to him by you. So, there wasn’t much to pack for him so instead he spent his time helping you pack your belongings. Stars literally shone in his eyes when he entered his new home, you giggled seeing him run around, inspecting every corner - like a child seeing his first snow. He was excited to unpack everything, asking you where things should go. When you called him out on his enthusiasm, he flushed red, stammering as he tried to deny. You don’t have to do any of the heavy lifting because Sakura insists on doing them all. Once you both settle in, in a rare moment he boldly pulls you into a tight embrace - his eyes glowing with warmth. “Thank you for giving me a place to call home...”

“Look! It’s our very own kitchen! Woah, this bathtub is huge! Is it really okay to call this mine…?”

❥ Suo did not express his happiness by jumping around or shouting at the top of his lungs. However, if he were to describe his reaction to your acceptance, that is what he felt inside when you agreed to move in with him. He'd nod along smiling as you rant on about the many things you'd like to do in the new house. A thought did cross his mind into hiring movers to do all the work (he’s a rich boy), but he figured it would be more personal and meaningful if you both did it. Suo has everything packed neatly and labeled, so you’d both have an easier time settling in. He’d always ask you if this is where you’d like this thing to be put here or not, valuing your opinion above his own. Suo does not mind if the curtains are of a certain color or if a certain furniture has a high price range. He’ll happily provide you with a card to spend to your heart’s delight. He’s just content to see a smile on your beautiful face. It really did not take long for you both to settle in, with strength remaining. Suo had everything planned out from the very beginning after all. Afterwards, Suo hugs you from behind as you both silently bask in the atmosphere of your new home.

“The sofa looks wonderful, my love. Though it would look better with you laying on it.”

❥ Kaji cracked his lollipop in one bite alone, when you asked him if he wanted to move in with you. It took him a moment to cool down his red face and racing mind, to properly give you an answer. When he said yes, you jumped onto him in excitement causing him to hurriedly catch you in his arms with a surprised yell. He wouldn’t voice it aloud but he was just as excited as you are. As he was packing each of his belongings into a box, his mind couldn’t help daydream of the life you’d share together. To wake up every morning to your beautiful face when the sun rises and to kiss you goodnight every night when the stars glimmer. You would no longer have to be separated from one another. He only snapped out of his daydream when the sound of a shutter came from your phone.

“You look adorable smiling to yourself. What were you thinking about?”

“Huh?! I wasn’t s-smiling! Delete that!!”

Instead of his usual headphones, Kaji opted to play music on a speaker, both his and your favorite songs while you both unpacked. You giddy moving around your new home, moving along to the music. Once your favorite song came on you couldn’t help but pull a reluctant Kaji along to dance. After a long day of unpacking, you both lay tired in the middle of your living room side by side - his hand tightly holding yours.

“Where do you want this to go? H-Hey, are you listening to me..?!”

❥ Umemiya is a picture of a man who received the greatest news of his life when you accepted his offer to move in. You had to keep him from bouncing off the walls with his enthusiasm. Not before him pulling you into the tightest hug, real happiness gleaming in his eyes. Umemiya being excited was an understatement, everyday leading up to the big move he would excitedly gush to you of all the new things he would like to do together with you. All the vegetables and fruits he would like to grow in his new garden and maybe even get a pet together. His excitement radiating off of him like the bright sun. You'd have to monitor the packing process because Umemiya would like to stuff everything into one box or misplace a few things. However, when it comes time to move your stuff in he'll quickly usher you to sit down while he brings every box in, despite your protests. He'd even take his shirt off when it gets hot. Even when Umemiya is in the other room, you could hear his animated talking - bringing a smile to your face with how adorable he is. He did not show a moment of tiredness throughout the whole move but once you're both in bed together he pulls you in close with a smile on his face, - drifting asleep.

"Imagine how many get togethers we can have! A barbeque in the summer and a hot pot party in the winter...!"

[miley1442111]

Hi love :) I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing a little something for Derek Morgan? Where reader and Derek have a similar dynamic to Chandler and Monica from friends, maybe something similar to that one scene where Monica gets called high-maintenance and can't stop thinking about it and Chandler comforts her by saying that whilst you may be a little above the average maintence level (or something around those lines, it's been like 2 years since I last watched friends 😅), he's just like, "it's okay, because I like... maintaining you?".

Btw I'm obsessed with your fics I just finished reading all your Aaron fics in one go. Thank you so much my love! <333

omg i love this ideaaaa so much (Truth be told I've never watched friends once so i did in fact have to look this scene up on youtube)

i hope you enjoy!!

a/n: intended for fem or male reader, so imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you're not high maintenance, right?

pairing: derek morgan x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, mild insecurities

High-maintenance. You weren’t high maintenance, right? 

It had been a throw-away comment from earlier in the week, something funny David had said. Though it stuck with you, making you question if you were high-maintenance or not. 

Was it high maintenance to ask your boyfriend to drive you to the gym? To ask him to get you a coffee? To ask his opinion on things? To ask him to help you with something?

You were going over it constantly in your head, so much so, that you’d decided to change. 

Him getting you coffee turned into you getting him coffee. Him helping you on cases turned into you practically ignoring him unless you were alone, or at home. Him giving his opinion on anything you’d usually ask him to give his opinion on, turned into never asking his opinion. Him driving you to the gym turned into you walking there and back alone. Maybe that one was a mistake… 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in the passenger seat of his car, the rain had ruined your hair, your active clothes sticking to your body, and his voice droning on in a lecture of why it wasn’t safe to walk home at 11pm alone. 

“I mean I seriously don’t understand baby, why can’t you just let me pick you up?-” he was worried. The kind of worry that made someone pissed off. 

“Why can’t I just let you pick me up, Derek?” You mocked. “I fucking wonder why.” 

“You wanna’ tell me something baby?” He cocked his head to the side, glancing at you quickly. 

“No,” you mumbled. 

“What is wrong with you this week? We’re barely spending any time together, you won’t let me drive you anywhere, you’re acting like I’m not there at work-”

“I’m trying Derek, alright. Give me a fucking break,” you huffed.

“What are you ‘trying’ to do?” He asked, genuine confusion coating his words. 

You just sighed and left the car as he parked it outside your shared apartment. You stood in the elevator, his jacket around your shoulders, feeling silly. Why had you let him pick you up? Oh yeah, three guys were following you. Probably the safer choice, though it didn’t make you feel any less childish. 

You’re so high maintenance, a voice in your head nagged and you slipped his jacket off and handed it to him. 

“Baby, can you just talk to me?” he asked, pulling the emergency stop button and turning to you. 

“About what?” You started the elevator again, wanting to ignore whatever issue he thought you two had. 

“Baby, if I did something-”

“You did nothing,” you reassured him with a sad chuckle.

“Then what’s wrong?” He asked, taking your hand in his. “Please talk to me.”

You looked down at his hand, a sad smile on your face. “It’s nothing.”

“Tell me anyway,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Do you think I’m high maintenance?” You asked, scared of his answer. 

He smiled down at you and sighed. “You’re a little high maintenance.”

“Oh…” you sighed. So Dave was right. Everything he’d said was right. Derek probably finds you so annoying. He probably hates you.

“But I like getting to do the maintenance. I like taking care of you,” he smirked, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad you let me take care of you.”

“What?” You stared at him and he pressed a kiss to your lips. 

“I like maintaining you,” he repeated and a smile spread across your face. 

Who listens to Rossi anyway?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :) - requests are open! :)

[ellecdc]

heyy Elle, could you please write poly!moonchaser × reader where Remus is hurting physically because of the full moon (either before and after) and reader and James take care of him and comfort him

our sweet moonchaser <333 thanks for your request lovie

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!moonchaser x fem!reader who checks in on them after the moon

This was silly; what were you so afraid of?

Okay, perhaps afraid wasn’t the right word, but the way your hands were sweating and your heart was racing (and your thoughts were spiralling) would suggest otherwise.

You had been with Remus and James for about two months before Remus finally shared his secret with you.

You couldn’t deny that you had a hunch - you’d been friends with the boys for a few years now and were aware that Remus has some kind of affliction that caused him issues approximately once a month that James and the other two Marauders seemed to help him with. That, along with the fact that you were very good at astronomy and tracking moon cycles (which was also very useful in Herbology), it didn’t come as a complete surprise when he admitted to you that he was a werewolf. 

You were glad he had told you, and though he had given you the chance then to ask him any questions you may have had, you only told him you were glad he trusted you.

Now, though? Now you wished you had asked more questions.

Like what the hell were you supposed to do after full moons now?

Before he had told you, he would fall ill for about three days around the end of the moon cycle, and though you would see James in class the day after, he would scurry back to his room citing that he didn’t want you to get sick and was going to go check in on Remus. 

And that had been fine.

Because like you said, you had a hunch.

But now…

Now that you knew, it seemed rude not to check in on him, right?

It would be rude to wait around for your afflicted boyfriend to come and find you after going through relative hell and back, wouldn’t it?

So…you braved yourself to check in on the boys in the infirmary. 

Except Madame Pomfrey had informed you that Remus had been allowed to return to his dorm to rest.

And then you nearly lost your nerve again.

Get it together. You scolded yourself. Those boys would likely love a visit.

And even if they weren’t up for a visit, you had brought some chocolate for Rem; perhaps you could leave them with Sirius or Peter.

You crawled through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room to an unusually (and frankly disturbingly) quiet sight. 

Sirius was lounging sloppily on the three-seater sofa with a book in his hands as Peter sat on a cushion by the fire playing a game of exploding snap with Marlene.

“Hey Sirius.” You said quietly as you approached the long-haired boy. He looked up at your voice and his surprised expression turned into a salacious one.

“Hello there gorgeous, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Peter snorted, though he never moved his attention from his game. “You’re lucky Prongs and Moony aren’t down here; you’d have been walloped good for hitting on their girl.”

Sirius scoffed in faux derision. “That’s what they get for kicking me out of my own dorm, Wormy.”

You felt your face blanche at the fact that even Sirius wasn’t allowed upstairs. What would make you any different?

Stupid girl.

“Come to see your boys?” Sirius continued, unawares of your inner turmoil. 

“Erm,” You started awkwardly, looking down at the silly box of Honeydukes chocolates in your hand. “I just came to drop this off; maybe you can give it to Rem for me?” 

Sirius’ teasing expression softened when he looked down at the box you were holding out to him.

“Sorry doll. Like I said, I’ve been banished. You’d have better luck delivering them yourself.”

You tried (and failed) to hide your grimace as you looked towards the stairs to the boys dorm. “I wouldn’t want to bother them.” You admitted shyly. 

“You misunderstand, L/N.” Marlene commented. “He’s a bother.” She explained, pointing a manicured finger accusatively as Sirius. “They’d probably cream their pants if you walked in right now.”

“Ew.” You, Peter, and Sirius chorused.

“She’s right though.” Peter agreed, grimacing at Marlene for her rather uncouth comment before turning to look at you. “Pad’s is the only one who was thoroughly banished from the room; I’m only down here because I didn’t feel like third-wheeling.”

“Yeah, I wonder why he was banished.” Marlene muttered sarcastically as she returned to their card game.

“Why were you banished?” You queried, causing Sirius to roll his eyes.

“They accused me of being a menace.” He drawled; the end of his sentence punctuated by a small explosion on the opposite side of the common room which covered a few third year Gryffindor’s in a fluorescent blue powder. 

Sirius - gods love him - didn’t even flinch as he held your eye contact “I never said the accusations were unfounded.”

“Go on; check on your lover boys.” Marlene encouraged, shooting you a wink.

You took in a shaky breath and offered them all a smile before making your way upstairs. 

Trying to be as quiet as possible, you knocked gently on the door alerting the boys to your presence before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

You could make out two forms curled up on Remus’ bed. James’ back was turned towards you as his slightly wider frame curled protectively around Remus’.

James turned to look over his shoulder at the disruption with an expression far more stern than you think you’ve ever seen on him, but it softened astronomically when he realised who had entered.

“Hi there!” He whispered brightly, causing Remus to stir. “I was just about to tell Pads to get fucked; this is a nice surprise.” He said as he extricated himself from Remus’ bed and began to make for you. 

“Who is it?” Remus’ voice could be heard muffled through the blankets he was holding over his head. 

“It’s your dovey, Moons.” James said as he pulled you into his chest and pressed a kiss into your hair. 

Remus sat up - likely too quickly in his current state - to see for himself.

“Hi lovie.” He whispered in awe; as if seeing you was some miraculous feat.

“Hi Rem. I’m sorry to bug you, I just wanted to-”

“No!” Both boys interrupted you, causing James to laugh.

“No, you’re no bother; of course not. Com’ere.” He said as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and opened his arms as an invitation for you.

Not needing to be told twice, you accepted his embrace and he pulled you into his lap.

“I won’t stay long.” You whispered up at him as James joined him beside the bed to look down at you.

“Please do.” He whispered back. He looked okay, if not extremely tired; he didn’t seem to have any new scars from what you could see, and he was clearly in good enough spirits to entertain you.

“He’s likely getting tired of spending time with just me.” James explained solemnly.

“He’s a coddler.”

“Are you really?” You asked James. 

James rolled his eyes and shook his head good-naturedly. “Listen, once a month I get to fuss over this sweet man; you best believe I take full advantage.”

You hummed in understanding and looked back at Remus. “You’re always so busy taking care of everyone else; it makes sense you wouldn’t know what to do when someone returns the favour.” You explained, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. 

“Is that why you’re here, Angel?” James said as he tickled your neck teasingly. “You here to take care of him?”

You pushed his hand away and handed Remus the box of chocolates. “I was just bringing you chocolate.”

Remus looked as though you had just handed him a key to the city and not a measly box of chocolates.

“Thank you dovey.” He said earnestly as he pressed a gentle yet lingering kiss to your lips. 

You broke apart at the sound of James snorting. 

“‘Just bringing him chocolate’ she says. You’ll be lucky if you see the outside of this dorm room in the foreseeable future.” He proclaimed as he picked you up bridal style out of Remus’ lap eliciting a squeal from your lips and he fell backwards onto the bed, situating the two of you there as Remus shifted back into the bed and curled himself around you.

“Your new job every month is cuddles from now on, ‘kay?” Remus whispered into your ear as James pulled the blankets up around the three of you. You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh through your nose as you nuzzled further into him.

“Sounds good to me.” You agreed readily, accepting another kiss from James as he settled beside you.

You’d take away Remus’ pain in a heartbeat if you could, but if this was all you could do for him instead, well…there were certainly worse ways to spend your time.

[tulip-room]

✧♡Got A Little Something There♡✧

pairing. Sakusa x reader

Content. This wasn't the way Sakusa had planned to reveal your relationship to the team

warnings. Lipstick wearing reader, soft Sakusa, Atsumu being the biggest tease (cannon)

words: 746

a/n: Woo! Posting for the third time today. Everyone thank Ave <333

He really should have seen this coming when he saw the mischievous smile on your face when you pulled him down for a kiss this morning. Should have known better when your lips were tinted red and you wouldn't let him leave without a few more kisses. Unfortunately, for as much as he may say he isn't. Sakusa is a simp for his partner so when you smiled so nicely at him there wasn't much else going on in his head. 

"Just one kiss before you go!" You smile brightly and hold a finger up. "It'd be very rude of you to leave without a kiss." So what does he do? He sighs with a smile and leans down for you to kiss him. Now, it should've ended there. He was already pushing being late because you had asked for 'just five more minutes' when his alarm went off that morning (which had turned into half an hour). 

Instead of 'just one kiss' as you had promised, it turned into a few more. You were looking entirely too proud of yourself when you both pulled away from the barrage of kisses. He would find out very soon why you looked so happy, for now though he didn't have time to question it. He places one more kiss on your lips before rushing out the door and to practice. 

When he got to practice everything had started normally...until he unhooked his mask from his face. He wasn't sure why Atsumu had burst out laughing, he just glared at him as usual. "Something funny Miya?"

"I think you've got a little something there Omi," Atsumu teases and motions around his mouth. Sakusa groans and puts a hand over his face. He definitely knew why you looked so happy now. For his own sanity he had asked you not go public with your relationship just yet (at least until the first match). He was by no means embarrassed by you, he would rather you hang him before Sakusa said he was embarrassed by you. No, he just didn't want to hear the teasing from Miya. Which he was getting now. 

Sakusa headed towards the bathroom to see exactly what you had done this morning before he had left the safety of your shared home. When he got to the mirror he sighed again. He could feel the hairs on his head turning grey when he caught sight of a much too pleased looking Atsumu standing behind him. Not only were his lips stained with the same red that was previously staining your lips, he also had kiss prints on his cheeks and corners of his mouth. 

"You've been hiding a relationship from us Omi? I'm hurt!" Atsumu feigns offense and clutches his hand over his chest and rests the back of his other hand on his forehead like he was fainting. 

"It was none of your business," Sakusa mumbles and pulls his phone from his pocket. He takes a picture of just how unamused he looked and sent it to you before pulling at paper towels to wipe the red off of his face. 

"Were you embarrassed or something Omi?" Atsumu coos as he watches the spiker try and wipe the lipstick from his face with little success. It seems red stains much more than you would realize. The sentence makes Sakusa stop his movements though and turn to the fake blonde.

"Never. I would never be embarrassed of them. I simply did not want to hear your comments."

"And whatever could you mean Omi?"

"I mean." He glares at the man in the mirror as he wipes his lips again. "I didn't want you to question our relationship Miya."

"You wound me Omi!" Atsumu puts the dramatics back on. "Seeing your face covered in lipstick is enough for me not to have any questions. You're obviously whipped for them."

"And? I love them and they love me. I know that's a hard concept for you to understand since no one seems to want you." Sakusa retaliates which only furthers the dramatics from the fake blonde. 

"Just wait till I meet this person. I bet they'll tease you with me. If your red stained face is anything to go by." And that would certainly be a day. He didn't want to think about how well you and Atsumu would get along. He supposed he could deal with the lipstick stains if it meant you kept kissing him though.

taglist. @hiraethwa

please send me an ask if you want to be tagged in a specific character/ all my works <3

masterlist

rules

[gallaghersgal]

MIND OVER MATTER, lip gallagher

chapter two of BORDERLINE. lip x bsf!reader (nickname: MK)

TAGS & WARNINGS → general shameless themes, smoking, swearing, karen's here and she's a bitch, lots of best friend moments <333

CHAPTER SUMMARY → the days get colder and lip remains stubborn. it's mostly due to his on again off again relationship with karen jackson, the girl who says she's pregnant with his baby. and, conveniently, the girl that hates your guts.

A/N → thank you so much for waiting on this one!!! took me a while to update because i just want every little detail to be perfect 🥹

WC → 1.7k

As autumn gave way to the icy cold of winter you found yourself staring out the window of your seventh period classroom. An old pair of wired earbuds connects both you and Lip to your school issued laptop, which the two of you were using to form your monthly shared playlist. It was a tradition you had started yourself at the beginning of this year, but Lip had wormed his way in as he seemed to do with everything else in your life, insisting he be allowed to add songs since he had to ride along with you everywhere. You’d told him it came with his lack of license, and he’d pestered you until you allowed him ten songs per playlist. 

Lip’s elbow digs into your ribs and pulls your focus away from the flurries starting to fall outside the window. “Skip this shit,” he mumbles, referencing the Taylor Swift song that just started.

You roll your eyes but skip it regardless, it didn’t fit in with your november lineup. Satisfied with the song that follows, you navigate away from the playlist, opening up your email. “I signed us up for a tour at UChi,” you say casually, eyes flicking over to gauge his reaction. He rolls his eyes and ignores you entirely, clearly annoyed with your choice. So this is still an uphill battle. Got it. “If you won’t go for yourself, at least come along for me? That way ‘m not alone.”

You watch Lip as he considers it, finally nodding his head after a moment of silence. The dismissal bell rings and your teacher gives some spiel about homework but neither of you care to listen. Like a well oiled system you return each other’s borrowed things–your pretty pack of highlighters Lip liked to use for annotation, the pencil he miraculously had when you forgot your own, the laptop which belongs to you and earbuds that belong to him–packing them up and practically racing each other out the door. You stumble through the back row as Lip dashes in front of you, pulling out a chair to leave in your path. It’s easy to laugh, easy to forget how much you’re having to push him to take his future seriously. 

By the time you catch up to him in the hall, there’s a little blonde nuisance at his side. She kisses him obnoxiously, which you think is a little much for the fact they aren’t even official. You’d never say it aloud but you’re not convinced her baby even belongs to him. Her school slut reputation hadn’t come from being a prude after all.  But of course you’re willing to play the part, to be the supportive best friend, because you knew the alternative; being painted as a jealous whore, for the simple act of looking out for your friend. Safe to say, Karen Jackson makes you seethe with rage. 

She doesn’t even offer a greeting, just looks you up and down with a disgusted glare. Lip says she doesn’t talk about you behind your back, but you think he’s just trying to save your feelings. You understand it can be hard to keep the peace between two girls who are equally important to him. Though, you wish he’d wake up from his lust induced haze to see she’s just using him. As always you play the part you’re meant to play. The best friend, ever supportive, standing quietly to the side as they have their moment. A moment that makes you sick to your stomach, but is theirs nonetheless. Not your place to intervene. 

You decide to wait in your car instead of dwelling on it.

Hours pass idly by before you’re in the Gallagher house for the night, too cold and tired to walk the twenty or so steps across the street to your own home. It wasn’t your fault Ian rolled a joint and passed it up when you were already dozing off in Lip’s bed.

When you stub out the joint, Lip tosses a pillow down to the foot of the bed. You can’t help but find it odd, the way you sleep head to foot to keep air between you as if you haven’t shared each other’s space for as long as you can remember. Lip was always wherever you were, and the same went for you. Inseparable for as long as you could remember. But then there came this… tension. The awkward energy] that came with growing up, getting crushes, going on dates. Suddenly it wasn’t normal to curl into your best friend’s side. Instead, he slept on an air mattress when he visited your house, and you occupied opposite ends of the bed at his. 

You’re not sure when the change came about. You find that you hate it. 

With nightfall comes snowfall, and when you wake from an uncomfortable strain in your back you see the soft, white flakes falling outside the window. You sit up, accidentally bumping your head in your excitement. The thud along with the pained groan from your chest wake Lip up, blue eyes blinking blearily up at you in the dim glow of the streetlight. 

“Fuck’re you doin’ MK?” he grumbles, swatting away your hand when it gently shakes his hip. “Go back t’sleep.”

“Look, ‘s snowing,” you murmur, awe painted in your tone as you lean down to turn his head towards the window. 

His next words are muffled by the pillow he shoves over his face, attempting to hide from you and your antics. “We live ‘n fuckin’ Chicago, it snows here. Not like its a miracle.”

“Come outside with me?” you ask simply. The pillow is pulled away from his face and Lip gives you a puzzled look, which you fight with a drawn out whisper of “pleeeeaseeee?”

Lip has never been able to say no to your pleading. Tonight is no exception. Within ten minutes the two of you are outside in your pajamas, fingers clad in fuzzy gloves and feet nestled into too-big snow boots. The snowfall is already slowing when Lip pulls one of his gloves off, struggling to light a cigarette against the icy wind. Without a word you step closer and shelter the light with your body until it catches the end of the cig. When he exhales you mimic the motion with frosted breath. 

Lip is still laughing at your antics when you grab his bicep, tugging his body to the ground with you. “Wha- what the fuck!?”

“Snow angels,” you reply simply, “come on, have a little whimsy, some childlike wonder.” The snow is cold against your back but you begin to move your arms and legs regardless. You tilt your head and are pleasantly surprised to see a boyish grin formed around the cig tucked neatly between his lips. He mimics your motion, arms and legs pushing snow aside until his elbows are brushing grass. 

He offers you the last drag or two from his cig, propping himself up with his elbows dug into the compressed snow where his back had been. “Y’know, I don’t think I’ve made a snow angel since I was–shit–like, five or six?” He hauls himself up and uses his teeth to remove the remaining glove, his hands dipping down into the snow.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn him, your teeth baring with a nervous smile as he steps closer, “Lip! Don’t you fucking-” it’s too late, there’s snow down the back of your crew neck sweatshirt. You shriek, jumping to your feet and packing a snowball of your own for revenge. It’s easy to laugh with him. To forget the troubles that plague your young hearts, subjects far too mature which were introduced at far too young of an age.

You end your little snow escapade on the steps. Lip brushes the gathering snow off the wood to give the two of you room to share a seat and a cigarette. The smoke warms your body and the comfortable silence warms your soul. You watch as he rubs his hands together, lifting them up to feel the little heat provided by the tendrils of smoke. 

When he passes it to you, you take a drag and exhale through your nose, taking both of his hands in your own. You want to scold him lightly, it’s not smart to go without gloves in the snow, but with two hands occupied you can’t exactly hold the cig anywhere other than your mouth. So you stay quiet, and so does he.

Minutes pass in familiar silence. You write your name in the snow at your feet, digging out the letters with the heel of your boot. Lip does the same with the cigarette butt when it’s finished, and you complain how unfair it is that his writing looks much neater compared to yours. He smooths out the snow over your name, rewriting ‘MK’ in the space. 

As you head inside you become aware of how wet your clothes are, the snow melting in the slightly warmer temperatures, though you notice it’s not much. Lip lends you some clothes of his and politely turns his back while you change. Not that you would’ve cared much, anyway. 

“Fuckin’ freezin’ in here Lip,” you mumble, shivering in your hoodie and borrowed boxers as you climb the ladder after him. 

He laughs in response, reaching out to tug you into the softness of his chest. “C’mere, snow miser,” he grumbles, referencing a childhood favorite movie the two of you would watch every Christmas. A smile graces your lips as you settle against his chest, his warmth more familiar than anything you’ve ever known.

Lip tells you quietly about how Frank blew his most recent disability check, leaving Fiona scrambling for the small but important number he often contributed to the heat bill. He rambles on about how each of his siblings were dealing with the cold–something about Carl convincing Debbie her frosted breath was a magical power–and you feel yourself drifting off to the gentle sound of his voice.

In the morning the sun peeks through the worn curtains of the boys’ room. Gentle rays attempt to tug you from the comfortable embrace, but your unconscious mind only snuggles further into Lip’s chest. Carl is the first to take notice of this, snickering and elbowing a distracted Ian in the ribs as he pulls on warmer clothes. The older boy eyes the two of you and grabs Lip’s phone from his desk to snap a quick picture before ushering his younger brother out of the room. 

And when Fiona heads out to head to work, there are still two names written in the snow. With careful footing, she allows them to stay.

THX 4 READING → dedicated to my lovely @notsonian. beta'd by @tinyphantomsalad.

[theprongspotter]

Stream - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 31 - 799 words

“Shit,” Regulus curses under his breath, fingers moving deftly over the controls as his character takes a hit. His eyes narrow in concentration, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he whips around and expertly snipes the enemy. The satisfying sound of the hit confirms his success, and a grin blossoms onto his face, a rare moment of genuine pride breaking through his usual calm demeanor.

He spares a glance at the chat on his second monitor, curious to see the reactions of his viewers. As he’s streaming on Twitch, he expects to see comments about the precision of his shot or praise for his tactical decision. Instead, the chat is flooded with compliments of a different nature entirely, catching him off guard.

reggieslefttoe: HIS VOICE

cassiecries: okay but why was that hot??

Regulus blinks, momentarily thrown by the unexpected turn of the conversation. He’s never shown his face on stream, preferring to keep his identity private, so the influx of comments about his voice feels a bit surreal. His heart skips a beat, and a faint blush creeps up his neck as he scans the chat, more messages piling in.

ghostlyghoul: i could listen to him talk all day tbh

whatissleep: Did anyone else get chills or just me??

Regulus clears his throat, trying to refocus on the game, but it’s no use. His mind is now stuck on the fact that his viewers aren’t just here for the gameplay—they’re here for him. The thought is both flattering and nerve-wracking, and he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks despite his best efforts to keep cool.

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” he mumbles into his mic, trying to play it off casually, but there’s an unmistakable warmth in his voice. He can’t help the small, sheepish smile that tugs at his lips as more comments flood in, each one making him feel a little more flustered than the last.

nightowl: omg he’s shy, that’s so cute

pixelpotion: Guys, we broke him lmao

Regulus lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he returns his attention to the game. “You lot are impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no mistaking the amusement in his tone. Despite the teasing, he finds himself oddly touched by the affection from his viewers, even if it’s not the kind he was expecting.

Then, a chime sounds, catching Regulus' attention as a new notification pops up on the screen. His eyes widen as he sees the amount—five hundred dollars. It’s not the first time he’s received a donation, but this one is more than generous. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but when he reads the username attached to it, a laugh bubbles out of him, warm and full of affection.

prongs: guys sorry to break it to you but he’s mine <333

The message hangs in the air for a moment before the chat erupts into chaos, messages flooding in faster than Regulus can keep up. The viewers are going absolutely wild, spamming the chat with everything from heart emojis to exclamations of shock and excitement. It’s a frenzy of curiosity and congratulations, the revelation sending the whole stream into a joyful uproar.

reggieslefttoe: WAIT WHO IS PRONGS???

cassiecries: HE’S TAKEN?!?!?!

nightowl: I KNEW IT OMG

Regulus just smiles, feeling a warmth spread through his chest that has nothing to do with the game. He can’t help but feel a bit smug, knowing that James—always the one to make grand gestures—chose such a public way to stake his claim. He leans a little closer to his mic, his voice soft but clear, the affection evident as he confirms what everyone’s already buzzing about.

“That is, in fact, my boyfriend,” he says, his tone filled with pride and fondness.

The chat goes wild again, the comments now a mixture of playful jealousy and supportive cheers. Regulus watches the messages scroll by, his smile only growing wider as he reads them. It’s not every day that his viewers get a glimpse into his personal life, and even though he usually prefers to keep that part of himself private, this moment feels right—like a small, shared secret between him, James, and his viewers.

But Regulus knows he has a game to play, and he’s already feeling the heat in his cheeks from all the attention. “Alright, back to the game,” he says, trying to steer the focus away from himself, though the smile on his face lingers, making it clear that the comments—and James’ surprise donation—have done more than just fluster him. They’ve brightened his entire day.

As he dives back into the gameplay, the chat continues to buzz with excitement, the energy infectious. But now, there’s a lightness in Regulus’ voice, a playful edge to his banter with his viewers that wasn’t there before.

[katsukistofu]

not sure if ur still taking requests but if u are would u be willing to write a hawks x prohero!reader where he finds her wearing his own merch?? ty!! i came from ur coffee mixup fic and it was just soo good i sent it to one of my oomfs and we had a mutual freak out over it 😭😭🫶🫶

awww that’s so sweet and cute omg !!! thank you very much my love i’m so happy you two enjoyed it ( >▯<) <333

picture perfect

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x prohero! fem reader. fluff. cursing. slightly suggestive. reader has ice quirk. ★ your boyfriend sees you wearing his merch and just can’t get enough.

“Dooo-ve?” Keigo’s teasing, saccharine voice is laced with barely concealed amusement. He leans against the frame of your shared bedroom's door, taking in the view of you lying on your back with an appreciative look on his face.

His heart skips a beat, getting to see you on your rare day off from patrol. Watching you, sitting there all pretty in a sweatshirt with his face on it. Your hair is messy, your socks, albeit both very cute and fuzzy, don’t match in color in the slightest and the fresh coat of polish on your nails is already chipped even though he just painted them for you during your weekly spa day yesterday.

Keigo's breath catches as he stands there, and he swears he’s never seen a more gorgeous view in his life.

The numerous sunsets, the iridescent clouds he's been so close to that he could reach out and touch them, the bright stars in the sky as he flew under them, all paled in comparison to you. Even witnessing you knock a villain out cold with a blast of your signature ice yesterday on live television, still only came second to seeing you all comfy and cozy like this.

There's a soft, giddy smile plastered on his handsome face, and he makes it so, so hard to keep up your act. “What’s that you’re wearing?”

“Nothing,” you answer from your comfortable position his side of the bed. You nonchalantly swipe on your phone to continue scrolling through your feed.

Your boyfriend’s grin only widens, and his sweet butterscotch eyes are half-lidded when he speaks again. “Trust me, I know what nothing looks like and it’s definitely not tha—ow!”

He laughs when he receives a plushie of himself flying to his face, which he easily catches in his hands. Keigo’s lips fall into a cute, overdramatic pout. “You just threw me!”

“You’ve got wings for a reason, birdbrain.” You roll your eyes and stretch your arms out. “Now come cuddle me I’m cold.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Keigo immediately puts the plushie aside and joins you on the bed, pulling you into his warm embrace with eagerness. You’re always cold, but he never minds. Just means more opportunities to hug you, which he gladly jumps at. “Back to my question though, is that my new sweatshirt that just came out from my merch line?”

“No?” Your tone is innocently coy, and it drives him insane. In a good way. “I think you mean my fellow pro-hero boyfriend, Hawks’s merch line?”

“Damn.” Keigo muses, playing along with your little charade. His finger grazes the hem of your collar and you shiver at his feather-light touch. “Your boyfriend’s Hawks? Lucky guy, having a pretty girl like you wearing his merch. Making me jealous over here.”

You out a giggle. "He says that all the time, actually."

"Oh? He better be, or I just might steal you away." His lip brushes over your ear as he continues to murmur. “And I couldn’t help but notice that your boyfriend looks a lot like me.”

“What a coincidence,” you tease, playfully running your hand through his soft, golden locks and bringing them to rest on his cheeks.

“God, you look so fucking perfect.” Keigo groans. You’re already a sight for sore eyes, and the feeling of your fingers in his hair nearly causes him to ascend heavenward. “Next time my marketing team drops something, you’re totally modeling it.”

“I’d rather it be for your eyes only,” you say, and the dimple that appears on his cheeks at that makes your stomach do a little flip.

“Shit, birdie.” Keigo uses a hand to fan himself exaggeratedly. “Is it hot in here or is it just you?”

“Still pretty cold actually, though that might be my quirk talking. I think you’re the hot one.” You hide a cheeky smile as you feel him he hook a finger through your belt loop and firmly drag you closer on the bed in response, forcing you to turn around until your knees hit his with a soft bump.

“Guess I need to work harder at warming you up then.”

A little while later after dinner, his hair is held back with a fluffy, pink Hello Kitty headband which matches the one on your head.

“Okay, I know you said for my eyes only but can I take a pic with you for my socials? Pleaseee, baby?” Keigo begs a little later, leaning into your touch while you carefully apply his sheet face mask on him. “You just look so good I wanna show you off.”

You frown. “I don’t want a bunch of your thirsty fans on my ass, Kei.”

"They're just jealous of what they can't have." He tips your chin up and says it in a tone so matter-of-fact it makes you let out snort.

"Pretty sure it's the other way around," you mutter, using your thumbs to gently smooth down the edges of his mask on his face, and your eyes catch his, brimming with affection so intense and unadulterated you catch yourself feeling a little breathless all of a sudden.

"What?" You tilt your head. "I'm right."

"Nah, I am. You didn’t get that award for hottest heroes on the charts for nothing.” At the comically skeptical look you shoot him, he huffs out a laugh. “I’m serious! Sweetheart,” Keigo’s voice softens. “I know you don’t believe it when the press says it, but when I’m always telling you you’re beautiful, you know I mean it, right? Every single time.”

With warm cheeks, you mumble out, “I know.”

“That’s my girl. You’re everything to me, y’know?” You nod shyly and the sweet, familiar curve of Keigo’s lips makes your insides melt into a puddle of chocolate fondue. “Good. I’m right and nothing you can say or do will change that.”

“Not even if I eat your last chicken nugget?”

“Not even if you eat my last chicken nugget.”

And he says it with such certainty that you can’t help but break into a smile of your own too.

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | chapter fourteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 17.2k

Warnings: angst, jealousy, it gets so sad, they fight!, you have no idea who’s the CULPRIT lmao. mutual masturbation!!, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t, babes), ass eating hehe!, a little spanking, a bit of backshots, it’s a bit rough but sweet, so much praise!!, multiple o’s!! tbh i think this is the best smut i’ve ever written lolsies.

Author’s note:  aaaaah! thank u so much for being so patient and waiting for this chapter as i recovered!! i loved this writing this chapter so much. it was fun, i found myself giggling in front of my computer screen like a crazy person multiple times lmao. also!! this was hot to write, i didn’t know i still had that in me! but yeah, it’s angsty, i’m so sorry in advance!! do let me know what you think. i love you guys so much!!!!! sending so much love and kissies. xoxo <333

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Fourteen

You sleep soundly that night. 

You find it quite ironic, how your body finally rests when it’s aided by him. Last night’s actions, the way you let him wrap his strong arms around you, pulling you closer as your legs intertwined. For a second, you think being so impossibly close would make you cry, but your heart was hazy by then, foolish even, and all his touch did was swarm you with peace and deep slumber. 

Soori’s baby monitor wakes you up before the alarm can. She doesn’t cry or fuzz, all you hear is her little babbles – something she often does when she wakes up from a nap, playing with the plushies in her crib. 

“Soo’s awake,” you mumble, voice muffled by the pillow. Jungkook’s torso is flushed to your back and you dread his warmth leaving you. 

He hums, head coming up for a second to hear her. “It’s ‘kay, we’ll let her play.”

“What time are you going into the office,” you ask, eyes heavy with sleep still.

“Noon-ish,” it takes him a while to answer and you know he’s falling back asleep. You reach for your phone, checking the time. It’s 6.35 a.m. “30 more minutes?”

“Mm, yeah, baby,” he says, face nuzzling against your neck, his steady breathing sending goosebumps down your spine. “I’ll make us breakfast later.”

“Deal,” you say, pressing yourself against him further as you cozy up into the pillows. Your ass shimmies a bit as you get comfortable and your eyes snap open at the feel of Jungkook’s hard cock against it. He whines, hand tapping against your thigh to get you to stop moving. A little giggle leaves you. “Wow.”

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he says, “but I can’t open my eyes.” You don’t mean to push your ass back into him, but his words get to you and so the action is merely subconscious. He hisses. “___.”

You smile, biting your lip. “I’m sorry. Sleep, sleep…”

And he does. No more than a minute later you’re feeling his body relax around you, arms growing heavy, multiplying that warmth, his soft snores on your neck working as a lullaby as you let yourself be thrown into a pleasant slumber. 

~

It’s short lived, though, your pleasant slumber. When you open your eyes again, you look at the time and realize you’d only slept for twenty minutes, as opposed to the thirty you’d both agreed on. You feel the rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest against your back, his arm had found a place in between yours and you were closer to him than you remember being when you fell asleep. It makes your chest feel tight and heavy. You stare at his hand, so close to yours, and thinking about him pulling you closer and snaking his body around yours like this makes you smile. Your fingers gently caress his hand before your own is closing around it, your thumb stroking his slowly. It’s a wild concept to you at times – a thought you like to ponder on – how you get to hold him. How you get to share a bed with him, kisses, touches. Sweet, little words that get thrown back and forth between you two in the heat of the moment – the softness of it, too. 

That’s how you’d realized you loved him. When his body on yours started feeling so overwhelmingly good and his warmth became your own and you couldn’t imagine how something so perfect could come to be. The word perfect dissipated from the notion of it all quite quickly, but you still believed the same. You loved him, and the feeling was tarnished – imperfect. But you couldn’t stop. You loved him and you wondered if you could keep loving him without him loving you back. Physically, speaking. You wondered if you could be this close to him knowing what you knew. Knowing what it felt like to love him. Knowing what it felt like to have him not love you back. 

Soori’s soft cries resound from the baby monitor and you gently pull Jungkook’s arm from over you, sneaking from under the covers to make your way to the nursery. You look at him, peaceful and so, so beautiful. You can’t fight with your heart anymore and you don’t quite knows what this means, but the realization is clear as day to you. 

You open the door to Soori’s nursery and find her standing up on her crib, chubby hands holding onto the bars. 

“Good morning, princess,” you grab her face and kiss her cheeks, “you’re gonna be walking in no time.” she giggles, giving tiny jumps as she bounces on the mattress. “Daddy’s sleeping but let’s get you out of your jammies.” 

You pick her up, placing her on your hip as you rummage through her drawers, finding a cozy yellow onesie to change her into and grabbing her diapers before you’re placing her on her changing table and getting her ready for the day. 

She babbles the process away, a mix of Nana’s and Dada’s as she plays with her favorite giraffe plushie. You sit her down on the floor and place a book for her to leaf through whilst you sit behind her and comb her hair. It’s getting longer and you take your time to brush through her locks, giggling when the feeling relaxes her and she draws her head back with her eyes closed. She’s such a character and you love it. You opt for two pigtails and tiny sunflower clips, turning her around and standing her up in front of you so you can examine your job. 

“Nana,” she says, taking one step towards you as she balances herself in your hands. 

“I hate to do this to you, but you can’t walk right now, your daddy would cry,” you say, holding her in your arms and standing up. You take her to the mirror and she claps and shrieks when she sees her reflection. You give little jumps and she laughs. “Soori,” you say, pointing at the mirror, “that’s you! Can you say Soori?”

“Nana,” she babbles, smiling and pointing at you. 

“Yeah, baby, that’s me.”

“Dada,” she pouts, looking around her nursery and opening her little hands as if to show confusion. 

“Wanna go get Dada?”

She smiles and puts her little hands over her eyes and you take that as a yes as you walk out of her nursery and make your way back to Jungkook’s room. When you guys’ walk inside, he’s still asleep, now on his back with his arm over his head. You’d forgotten to close the blinds last night and he was probably hiding from the sun. It makes you chuckle. 

“Dada!” Soori screams, outstretching her little arms towards him and making grabby hands. When Jungkook fails to respond she starts to cry her whiny crocodile tears. 

“Wake him up, baby,” you tell her, placing her on the bed next to him, watching as she crawls fast towards him. 

She touches his face and you see the way his lips form into a smile, eyes still closed as he fakes sleep. She’s in the middle of calling out for him once again when he opens his eyes, grabbing her and letting out an, “aaaaghh,” that both startles her and has her breaking into fits of giggles and shrieks. He has her over his body, making her jump in his hold before he’s bringing her back down again and kissing her soft cheeks. 

“Good morning, my little alarm clock,” he says and she laughs like she understands, “you slept good, didn’t you? You look so cute.”

You smile at the sight. Seeing them together is something you never get tired of and it makes you feel things you’d never felt before. In the list of reasons why you loved him, the fact he was an amazing dad stood at #1, always. 

“Good morning, you,” he tells you, reaching his hand towards you, kissing it when you take it. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You looked so peaceful. Plus, you needed rest.”

“Thank you, baby. Did you sleep well?”

You nod. “I did.”

“Come here,” he pulls you towards him and you land on the bed, Soori crawling towards you now and sitting on your tummy. You both laugh as she just stares at you. “She’s a little weird in a really cute way, isn’t she?”

You look at her, cocking your head to the side. She imitates your movements. “Yup. In the best way.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s perfect.” he says, reaching for her and shaking her in his hands, making her laugh before he’s placing her between the two of you. “Aren’t you perfect?” 

Soori just shrieks, enjoying the love and the cuddles she gets – rejoicing in them, even. At some point, she tires herself from so much laughter and she just stares at the ceiling. You and Jungkook laugh at this, looking at each other for what starts as a split second and then lingers. 

“I like mornings like these,” he says, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“Me too,” you say. 

“You hungry,” he asks, and you nod. He looks down at Soori, who’s still spaced out, squeezing her cheeks with his hand. “You hungry?” He asks her, making her nod. 

“Jungkook,” you laugh, pushing his hand away from her. 

“Her cheeks are like, made out of clay or something,” he says, bringing his hands back to her face and squeezing her chubby cheeks until she looks like a fish out of water.

“You’re one to talk,” you say, bringing your own hand to his face, squeezing his cheeks and shaking his head from side to side. 

“Fair enough,” he says, voice muffled as you squeeze further. Your hands are still squeezing as he pulls himself up, inching his face closer to yours and placing a small kiss on your lips. “I’ll go make breakfast. Wait here, okay?” 

You nod and he places a kiss on Soori’s forehead before he jumps out of bed and heads downstairs. 

“Hey,” you say, looking down at Soori, “you wanna watch Bluey on daddy’s huge TV?” She shrieks at the mention of her favorite TV show and you nod once, reaching for the remote.

The next thirty minutes are spent like this. Soori laying down against a mountain of pillows, a bottle in hand that Jungkook had brought her as you two waited for breakfast to be ready, and Bluey on the big TV. You card your fingers through her hair gently as she watches intently, mostly just letting yourself stare at her. She’s so perfect it leaves you in awe. 

When Jungkook walks inside of his room once again, he makes sure to let his gaze linger on the two of you. Neither of you have felt his presence in the room yet, gazes fully focused on the screen in front of you. He smiles, for certain convinced he could wake up to this every day. Soori sees him first and she waves her hand at him, making him laugh. You turn your head around, a soft smile on your face when you see the tray he holds – pancakes and fruit, orange juice and coffee for the two of you. 

“Kook,” your voice is soft, “this is so nice.”

“I am quite the chef,” he brags, placing the tray on the bed and placing a chaste kiss against your lips. “Plus, I’ve got to feed my girls.”

My girls.

It makes you both happy and sad. A part of you wants to believe it, but the other part begins to feel like you’re living a life that doesn’t quite belong to you. A life that you know for a fact he wanted to live with Ira. The notion sinks in like a ton of bricks falling from your heart, all the way to your stomach, and suddenly, you’re not hungry anymore. 

Your eyes zero in on Jungkook and Soori as he wraps her bib around her and places soft kisses on her cheek. She points at the strawberries and he feeds her one, saying something about his cutting skills not being as good as yours. But you can’t quite grasp his words, even if you laugh. It dawns on you, as you take them in, that you’re living under her shadow. You’re in a house that she once made hers, with the person she considered to be the love of her life, and what came out as a result: her daughter. You look around, wondering how much of her touch was perfectly placed all over this room. How much input she had in making this a home where they’d raise babies and maybe even grow old together. How much of these thoughts she had when it was all coming together. You look at Soori, wondering about all the dreams she had for her. You look at Jungkook, seeing just how much of her love she could’ve fit inside of him, and it makes you wonder how much of her is still in him. 

“Wanna try, baby?” His voice is muffled, faint and distant compared to how loud your thoughts are, but you nod, and he brings the fork to your mouth. You take a big bite, smiling at him and humming in satisfaction. “Good, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, heart breaking as you see the smile that forms on his face. 

The morning goes by slowly, your realizations sinking in more and more with the passing of time, and this time the question is louder than ever,

What were you doing?

~

You pack the last of your necessities inside your duffel bag, double checking the inside to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything. It all seems to be there – a couple of dresses, two bathing suits, a pair of sneakers, more underwear than you’ll probably need and two separate bags full of your makeup and skincare. You throw your journal and pens inside of your bag and reach for your copy of Sense and Sensibility, throwing it in there, too. 

You head out into the living room, placing your bags on the sofa before you make your way to the kitchen, pondering on the very limited options you have for breakfast. You opt for an apple and a granola bar, making yourself a cup of coffee as you munch on those. 

You try to keep your thoughts at bay when it comes to the dreaded beach house trip. You don’t quite know what to expect but, then again, what was there to expect? You were there to do your job and take care of Soori. Jungkook never showed any sort of affection towards you when you guys’ were in big groups like these and you were mostly used to it by now. You try to quieten down the voice inside your head that tells you that the truth of the matter is that you want more. And then there’s also your newly discovered realization. You know, the living under Ira’s shadow. That one keeps you awake at night the most, if you’re being honest. And so you sigh, lowering your expectations and shifting your mentality, reminding yourself that you were there to do your job. 

Jungkook’s punctual, and so are you. You’re placing your freshly washed coffee mug into a cupboard when he calls you.

”Good morning,” he chimes.

”Good morning,” you say.

”You ready, baby?”

”Yeah, are you downstairs?”

”Yup.”

”I’ll be there in a second.”

”Can’t wait,” his voice sounds dreamy, and you roll your eyes. You hate being mean, you hate being so mad at him, but you also hate the fact that he’s acting like this is some sort of romantic getaway. 

You take a deep breath, not wanting to carry your anger downstairs with you. Grabbing your bags, you head outside your door, going down the stairs and past the entrance to your building. He leans against the door of his car, legs crossed as he scrolls through his phone. He’s got dark shades on and his hair is getting longer. You curse at yourself for swooning. Right as you’re about to say something, he looks up, eyes meeting yours and he smiles.

“Hi,” he walks over to you, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer before he places a soft kiss on your lips. “Missed you.”

”I missed you, too,” you say, solely because it’s the truth. You had missed him, even though it’d only been one night.

”Let me get this for you,” he says, reaching for your bags and you let him, following his every move as he opens the boot of the car and places it inside gently. “Ready to go?”

”Ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, sighing. He thinks this is funny, chuckles a bit and everything, but inside, you’re already dreading what the long weekend will hold. 

Soori waves at you when you step inside the passenger seat, shrieking and babbling a sweet, “nananana.” You smile, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

Jungkook gets behind the wheel, taking his time to find the right playlist before connecting his phone to the car. For Road Trips, the screen reads and you can't help but find it endearing.

“You’re such a dad,” you say, looking over at him.

“This is an exquisitely curated playlist.”

“Mhm,” you say, putting your seatbelt on and settling into the seat.

“You look pretty today,” he tells you, and when you turn to look at him, his eyes are scanning down your body. 

“Thank you,” you say, fixing the hem of your white sundress. 

“We should be there in,” he looks at his watch, “one hour and fifty two minutes. We’ll stop by the gas station halfway there, though.”

“I have a small bladder,” you say, genuine concern lacing your features.

He laughs, leaning over and kissing your cheek. “We’ll stop whenever you need to go, baby.” You don't know why, but the kiss makes you blush. You nod at him, and he gives you a sweet smile before he’s starting the engine and the three of you begin the journey. 

The ride is pleasant. The moment you step out of the city the road breaks into vastness – nothing but blue skies and lands of green at the sides of the road. Jungkook was right, his playlist is indeed exquisitely curated and you enjoy the soft music that plays from the stereo. Soori plays with her plushies and babbles some, but you’re not surprised because she’s often really good in the car, oftentimes making her sleepy. And you’d testify to that because before you know, you’re falling asleep, too, and when you wake up, Jungkook is parking the car at the gas station. 

“How long did I sleep for,” you ask, voice groggy as you rub the sleep off of your eyes.

“Thirty minutes or so,” he says, “good morning.”

“Sorry for being the worst co-pilot ever.”

“Nah, it’s okay, baby. Soori just went down, too,” he says, and you both turn around, laughing at the way her cheeks squeeze against the seatbelt of her seat. “I’m gonna go get some snacks, Joon’s in there, too, they’re just behind us. Want anything?”

“Oreos, please.”

He laughs. “Oreos it is.”

Jungkook squeezes your hand in his before exiting the car and making his way to the convenience store. A bell chimes when he steps inside, making Namjoon turn to the door, smiling when he sees him. 

“The girls said chocolate chip cookies,” Namjoon says, holding two different packs of cookies on each hand, “but there are so many options.”

Jungkook reaches for both packs, placing them back on the shelf before he’s grabbing another and handing it to him. “These are the good ones, everyone knows that.”

“Thanks, bro.” He pats the youngest’s back. “What a nice day. The road is smooth, too.”

“Yeah, we lucked out. It’s usually packed this time of year.”

“Classic,” Namjoon says, pointing at the pack of oreos in Jungkook’s hand.

“Oh, they’re for ___.”

“She’s coming?”

He doesn’t know why, but Namjoon’s question makes him nervous. “Yeah. She is Soori’s nanny.” Namjoon ponders on his answer but doesn’t say anything. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, I just didn’t think she’d come. You know, with all the extra hands we’ll have over the weekend.”

“Are you nanny shaming me,” Jungkook asks playfully, making Namjoon laugh. 

“Fuck, no. Never,” he says. “Soori seems to be very fond of her, no?”

Jungkook looks out the window of the convenience store, staring at his car, even though he can’t see you. “Yeah, she is. We both are.”

Namjoon’s head turns so fast it nearly gives him whiplash. “Oh?”

“What,” Jungkook says, walking down the drink aisles, eyeing his options. 

“You’re fond of ___,” the oldest states, matter of factly.

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be? She’s great with Soori.”

“Have you guys gotten close? I get the impression that you have some times.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how to reply to his question without giving himself completely away. Then again he considers what giving himself away would actually entail. Namjoon was one of his best friends, after all. 

“Yeah, a bit.” He feigns nonchalance, pretends to read the back label of a Fanta bottle. 

“Jeon Jungkook,” Namjoon says, making the youngest turn to face him. “You have a crush on your nanny!”

“I- it’s not like that,” he defends, stuttering on his words a little, making his friend laugh. “Can we not do this here?”

“Why? Is the horny police around?”

‘The ho- what are you twelve?”

Namjoon laughs. “Oh, please. Give me something. Anything! The group’s official bachelor is out of duty for what looks like, ever. You having the hots for your nanny would be legendary. It would restore the balance, you see?”

“First of all, do not compare me to that era of Jimin,” he says, pointing a finger at Namjoon, making him laugh harder. “Second of all, it’s not like that.”

“I mean, as your older, therefore wiser, friend I do have to tell you to keep it in your pants.”

“What is that supposed to mean,” Jungkook frowns, even though he knows exactly what he means. He’s stalling, if you will.

“It means look don’t touch, try don’t buy. Ya know. Don’t be stupid and fuck your nanny. You know how hard it is to find a nanny in this day and age? Mary Poppins is a myth, son.” He says. “Although, she’s kinda hot, isn’t she?”

“Huh,” Jungkook looks at him, confused. He hasn’t been able to thread his words since the beginning of this conversation. 

“Mary Poppins! She’s kinda hot,” he repeats. 

“What the fuck, bro,” he says, and Namjoon shrugs, heading to the self check out. 

Jungkook pays for his stuff, too. Promptly returning to the car, brain going round in circles at Namjoon’s words. 

~

Jungkook’s beach house was like something out of a TV show in which the main premise of the plot was to display the tribulations of having great wealth. 

You’re in awe the minute you step out of the car, speechless as Jungkook unbuckles Soori out of her car seat. The house is big, tall and white. The front garden alone was to die for, an array of palm trees making way to the entrance. You could hear the distant breaking of the waves in the ocean from where you stood. 

“How far are we from the beach,” you ask him, taking Soori in your arms so he can retrieve your bags from the boot.

“Not far at all, actually. We can access through the backyard. It’s maybe a five minute walk.”

“Woah,” you say, mouth slightly agape as you take it all in.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s amazing,” you say.

��Come on, I’ll give you a tour and we can get settled in.”

The home was a contrast of modern and classic, certain corners retaining the charm the years had given the property and some others bathed in the minimalist edge Jungkook seemed to be fond of. The spaces were big and spacious, the furniture beautiful and in neutral shades that really gave off that zen, vacation vibe. The kitchen was white with a big window that gave way to the garden, making you gasp at the sight of it. Green and vast, a huge pool in the middle and different living areas, but what raptured you the most was the ocean. Blue and serene at a nearby distance. 

The upstairs mainly consisted of bedrooms – plenty of them.

“Soori’s room is my favorite in the house, look,” Jungkook says, opening the door to her nursery, revealing the beautiful white interiors. 

“This is gorgeous, oh my God.”

“Thank you,” he says, placing Soori on the floor and letting her crawl around. “I hired the same interior designer for both houses. He did a wonderful job.”

“When did you get this house?”

“Um,” he says, hand ruffling his hair at the back, “it was my 21st birthday present.”

Your jaw drops, eyes widening, looking around you as if to ground yourself to the reality of his statement. “Woah?”

“Yeah, I know…,” he says, nervous. “I didn’t do much to it for a while, though. Me and the boys would drive here on the weekends and just sit by the pool and grill burgers. I didn’t know what to do with such a space. It was only two years ago that I decided to hire someone and now it looks more like a home.”

“It’s cozy,” you say, wrapping your arms around your body. 

“Yeah, we love it. It’s nice to be able to have people over. Jimin’s parents- their beach house is four houses down. And my parent’s is next to theirs.”

“Wow, you two really did grow up together, huh?”

‘Yup,” he says, walking over to you, pulling you closer by the hips.

“I got a vacuum for my 21st birthday,” you say, right as he’s about to kiss you. You feel the way he laughs against your lips. “Oh, and Lucy got me a gift card from our favorite burrito place. Free burritos for a whole month.”

He pulls away, looking at you before he says, “that’s pretty fucking cool, actually.”

“I know right?” He nods, laughing and kissing you again. “Where’s Namjoon?”

“He drives, like, super slow,” he says. “You know he only learned how to drive like, three years ago?”

You laugh. “Really?”

“Yeah, he used to drive his bike everywhere.”

“Sustainable,” you say.

“Yeah, this one time he got on it drunk and crashed against a tree, though. It was funny.”

“Oh my God, was he okay?”

“Minor concussion,” he says, laughing at your shocked expression. “Everyone should be here soon, though. We’ll go to the grocery store and get the weekend’s supplies.”

“Sounds good,” you say, still wrapped in his arms.

“And then tonight we’ll BBQ. I have a couple of friends coming over that are also here for the weekend. They’re nice, you’ll like them.”

You nod, smiling at him. He smiles back and you divert your gaze from his eyes to his lips. You see the way he smiles as he pulls you closer, softly putting his lips on yours. It’s a short-lived moment, though, as you begin to hear the arrival of his guests, bursting your little bubble of bliss and abruptly throwing you into uncertainty once again. 

~

It’d been a day of fun, mostly spent under the sun, inside the pool and then later in the afternoon, you all headed to the beach. The kids built sandcastles and swam in the ocean, the waves tame and serene, it was like straight out of a movie. The sun set and you got to see it merging with the blue of the water as it painted the sky in a million hues of pink, orange and yellow. It was so beautiful it took you a while to believe your eyes. 

It often surprised you, how this was your job, specially since everyone was so nice and friendly towards you, often engaging in conversation that slowly faded out of casual Soori talk into making an effort at getting to know you. The girls in particular seemed to be growing fond of you and Lucy. They rejoiced on the fact that Jimin had found someone to tame his wild spirit without failing to keep him, well, a little wild still. You loved seeing her adapt to the group so well, but most importantly you loved seeing the way Jimin loved her and was so proud to show her off. You overheard a conversation they’d had with Dae and Sun as they buried Jimin in the sand and Lucy gently brushed his hair away from his eyes. 

“Are you two in love,” asked Sun, looking at them dreamily. 

“Eughhh,” Dae had said, grimacing. 

“No, Dae,” Sun told him, gently as ever, “Love is nice. Love is a good thing.”

“Do you two kiss,” Dae asked, eyes a little shy as he focused on burying Jimin further.  

Lucy and Jimin turned to each other, almost scared of saying the wrong thing. 

“Often times, when two people are in love, they kiss, yes,” Lucy said, taking her time at choosing her words. 

“So you two are in love,” Sun looked at her, then at Jimin, as if waiting for her uncle’s confirmation. 

“Yes, Sunny. We are in love,” he said, making her smile, her cheeks tainting crimson. “That’s kinda cool, huh?”

“Why,” Dae asked.

“Why what, buddy?”

“Why are you in love, uncle Jimin?”

“Um,” Jimin looked at Lucy, who was starting to get shy herself. “Because Lucy’s the coolest girl in the world!”

“Do you get butterflies in your stomach?” Sun’s question makes both her and Dae giggle.

“All the time,” Lucy says, bringing her forehead to hers as they break into a fit of giggles.

You’d been giggling along with them from your place in one of the sunbeds, Soori napping deeply on your chest. You had a blanket over her and your hand on her head, caressing her silky hair, entranced by how peaceful and lovely the moment you’d witnessed was. Your eyes had veered over to where Jungkook, Taehyung and Namjoon played a rather competitive game of badminton. He was winning, of course. You could tell from the smile on his face – confident, a little cocky even. But he didn’t fail to look any less beautiful as the wind caught his hair and his laughter got caught in the sound of the waves, making it one eternal thing that you were convinced could hold its beauty forever. 

You wanted him to love you the way Jimin loved Lucy. It was such a silly thought, but nonetheless true. Today had proven it to you enough. You wanted him to be proud of you, to introduce you as his girlfriend, to weave you inside his circle because he couldn’t imagine it any other way. You wanted to be a sure thing for him, one that he felt the need to share. Perhaps not with the whole world, but with this world. His little bubble of comfort and love. His chosen family. You had no reason to feel left out, but in that moment you did. It was a feeling so visceral that it made his rejection sting more, like the burn of the absence of him was something so unbearable you doubted you could sit through another minute of it. You felt at a distance from him and it made your body ache and your eyes sting with the pain of your love. 

Now you stood in front of the mirror, the remnants of the summer sun slowly making themselves present on your body. The shower had been refreshing and in a way, you were hoping it’d wash the sour feeling of comparing yourself to your best friend away. It was hard to show yourself compassion because your thoughts were so unlike you. You try to conceal your sunburn, but opt not to after one failed attempt, keeping your makeup light and naturally golden. You brush through your wet hair, enjoying the feeling of the cold strands against your shoulders and back. In simple moments like these, you think summer is the only season that matters. 

There’s a knock at your door, startling you a bit. 

“Coming,” you say, as you reach for the white, fluffy robe you’d found in your bathroom. 

When you open the door, Jungkook’s face greets you with a smile. His hair is wet, too and his skin has the sun painted all over it. He looks radiant and beautiful. He looks like summer. 

“Hi,” he says, stepping inside when you open the door and closing after him. 

“Hey,” you say, “where’s Soo?”

“Watching basketball with uncle Yoongi.”

You laugh. “Fair enough.”

“I miss you.”

For a second he just stands there, looking at you, not doing much to close the distance between your bodies. 

“Jungkook,” his name on your lips feels final and you don’t know what to follow it with.

“Yes, baby,” his voice is soft, his eyes on you. 

The words you’ve kept from him for weeks travel from your head to your throat, sitting on your mouth for a beat too long, not getting close enough to your lips because they’re tangled in your tongue. Too many words, too little sense to make as your heart starts beating faster. 

“Today was fun,” is all you can muster.

“I’m glad you enjoyed,” he finally closes the space between you, coming closer. “I had a lot of fun, too.”

“You have,” your worlds falter as he takes the single step it takes him for your bodies to be touching. Your back hits the dresser. “Wonderful friends. You have wonderful friends.”

“Yeah,” he says as his hand travels up and his fingers card through your damp hair. “They’re pretty awesome, huh?”

“You’re so lucky,” you say, eyes closing as his hand caresses your cheek.

“I am,” he responds, and when you open your eyes he’s looking into them. It’s so easy to believe him. It’s so easy to believe what you guys have is more than what he’s willing to give. You wonder if perhaps you love him enough for the both of you. 

“W-we should head down soon.”

“In a bit. Tae’s starting the fire,” he says. “He lost the bet.”

You scoff and it makes him chuckle. “They’ll suspect, if neither of us are there, I mean.”

He shrugs. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” your words are firm even if your voice is soft. “But it bothers you.”

“I don’t know that it does, to be honest.”

“Oh?”

“Namjoon sort of caught me today,” he says, a playful smile on his face as his hands sit at your waist.

“What do you mean he caught you?”

“He thinks I have a crush on you,” he says. “Actually, I think his exacts words were you have the hots for your nanny. Which, both are kinda true.”

You laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

“Mhm, for you.” He kisses you. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’re not,” you say, and when you do it has a slight bite to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss. 

He changes the topic because he doesn’t know what to make of your subtle hostility. 

“You look so pretty with a tan.”

You turn around for a second, looking in the mirror behind you. “It’s more of a sunburn right now.”

“Still. It’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” you say, running your finger down his nose. “You too.”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, tongue finding yours quick enough yet moving in a slow pace. If you were ever to wonder why you can’t deny him, why you’d rather your mouth be on his than spitting a truth that could potentially compromise moments like these, this is why. His hands travel from your waist down your middle, working the strings of your robe undone as the cold air hits your bare skin, his touch scolding hot in contrast. Jungkook lets his hands roam over your body, rejoicing on the feel of your soft skin and the way you smell clean and floral, a hint of sweetness he’s learned to recognize in your presence. It prepares his senses for the best of it all as he pulls away from your lips softly, taking a step back to take you in as his eyes scan down your body. He stops for a second too long at your lips, red and plump from the sun and his kiss, down your collarbones and the faint tan lines that accentuate the golden of your skin. He wants to look, to take you in, but his hands fail him and they travel up, closing around your tits. You shiver when his thumbs lightly graze your nipples and his eyes are back on your lips, plump flesh caught between your teeth. 

“So beautiful,” his voice is a whisper that sounds like he’s mostly talking to himself. 

He lets his right hand fall from your breast, down your waist until it reaches your hip. His fingers feel feather light against your skin and as you lean backwards against the dresser, he can see the way your stomach caves in as your breath hitches in your throat, every touch but a build up of anticipation. He smiles, loves the way you react to him, even to the faintest of his touches. He follows the path the curves of your body dictate, squeezing at your hip before he’s letting his hand fall down the curve of your ass, eyes looking for the small ink he now knows where to find. He smiles when he sees the butterfly, biting his lip in what one could call disbelief. It is then that Jungkook wonders if you’re his. He can’t quite explain the thought that occurs him but it comes without fail as he takes in your body. A body he’d very much like for it to be his. He doesn’t like to feel possessive, believes he’s a little too old for that now and ultimately knows it serves him no purpose. But the question comes softly to him, the idea that someone else had you before him and the potential of someone having you after him. It leaves a sinking feeling in his chest that he doesn’t miss, not even as his cock throbs at what stands before him. 

“I want you,” he says, eyes finally landing on yours, voice a little desperate. 

You know better. Still, you say, “take me.

His smile holds lust, features soft but eyes dark and Jungkook’s so entrapped by the prospect of having you that he loses track of time completely. That’s why Taehyung’s voice coming from the hallway startles him. 

“Jeon!”

The two of you jump, both your hands coming to your robe to close it instinctively. 

“Shit,” Jungkook says, hand coming to his forehead to regain some composure. 

“We should’ve seen that one coming,” you say, a bit lighthearted at the sight of him. His cheeks are flushed, hair messy for no reason, fully flustered. Not to mention the hard on. 

“I had visions of other things coming,” he says, frowning. “Not Taehyung.”

You laugh, and just as if he’d invoked him, his voice resounds again. “Where the hell are you? I’m not grilling for fourteen people all by myself!”

“Go,” you whisper-yell. 

“He’s out there!”

“Just- make some excuse up, or something.”

“Okay, okay.”

Jungkook walks to the door, fixing the front of his shorts before opening it. To his fortune, Taehyung had been walking right in front of your bedroom, stopping in his tracks as he sees his disheveled looking friend. He peeks behind Jungkook, catching a glimpse of you and waving. 

“What a pleasant surprise, Jungkookie,” he says, what Jungkook would call his bastard smile plastered all over his face. 

“I had to fix ___’s leak. A leak- on the- a pipe.” 

You mentally face palm. Taehyung just breaks out in boisterous laughter. 

“Aren’t you the handyman,” he says, after he’s composed himself slightly. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook says in resignation. “Let’s go.”

“See you downstairs, ___!” He waves at you with a big smile on his face as Jungkook drags him by the collar of his shirt. You give him a small wave, cheeks fully red in embarrassment before Jungkook closes the door to your room. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, running the brush through your hair once again and applying lipstick, timing your breathing so as to come down from the little high your moment had left you with. You rummage through your bag, retrieving a short linen skirt that you pair with a strappy cotton top with a little pink bow at the center. Once you look presentable enough, you take a deep breath and open the door, sighing before you brace for the night. 

~

It wasn’t panning out to be half as bad as you’d expected. With the exception of Taehyung’s wink at the sight of you, followed by Jungkook’s palm hitting him straight on the head. Aside from that, the evening had taken a relaxed vibe to go with the cool summer breeze and the bright stars in the sky. You’d been in awe the minute you stepped foot outside, taking Soori into your arms as she’d thrown herself to you when she saw you, and gasping at the beauty of the sky. 

“That’s unreal,” you say, making Kenny laugh at how Soori imitates your movements, drawing her head back and opening her mouth in mock shock. 

“Ah, I know. We’re so used to the city, this almost feels fake,” she says. 

You reckoned she was right. You couldn't remember the last time the stars looked so bright in the sky before – or well, at least for you. You think about the fact that you’d left your small town, where the skies were clear and the stars would put on a show every night – it’s crazy to think you’d forgotten how that felt like. You blamed it on coming a long way, though. It made you hopeful, although nostalgic and a bit sad at the same time. Your heart was all over the place. 

“I’d also forgotten how the air feels at night next to the ocean.”

“I do not miss the clammy city heat,” Kenny says, laughing, bringing a glass of wine to her lips. 

“I don’t mind it, but I definitely prefer this,” you bounce Soori on your hip. 

Taehyung joins the two of you, putting a glass of wine on your hand and taking Soori from your arms. “Excuse me, ladies, I’m taking Soori to the grill. Gotta teach ‘em young!”

“Careful with the fire, Taehyung!” 

“Will do, auntie Ken!”

“Well, cheers,” she says, bringing her glass forward.

“I don’t know that I should,” you tell her.

“Come on, you’re in a room full of responsible adults. Plus, it’s her bed time soon.”

You bring your glass forward, clinking it to hers before you’re drawing the sweet liquid back. 

“Kenny,” a voice from behind her says, his hands closing around her shoulders, one of the few new faces you didn’t recognize this evening. She turns back, smiling at the sound of his voice. “You know, I think I saw you the other day… you didn’t say hi, though.”

“Impossible!” She exclaims, face in shock at the possibility. 

“Yeah,” he says, feigning a sullen face. “Dior, was it? Your face was way up there on a billboard.”

She rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her lips. “I fall for that every time.”

“It’s a classic,” he says, eyes finding yours before smiling and growing a bit timid all of a sudden.

“Oh! Mingyu, this is ___,” she turns to you, “__, this is Mingyu. One of Kookie’s high school friends. They went to college together, too.”

Mingyu smiles, outstretching his hand that you take in greeting. “Have I seen you in a billboard before?”

You can feel the warmth traveling to your cheeks, gaze meeting the floor as you shake your head. “You have not.”

“I can totally see that, though,” Kenny says, “you have such a pretty face, ___. Like a doll.”

“Yeah,” he says, his hand squeezing yours softly before releasing it. “How come this is my first time seeing you, though?”

“Oh, I’m Soori’s nanny,” you say, meeting his eyes again. 

“No way,” he smiles, “what a cool job. She’s the best.”

“I know right?” She’s always such a good way to break the ice in these situations. 

“Yeah,” he turns to Kenny, “I can’t believe Mr Jagerbombs goes by Dad.”

Kenny laughs. “Aw, he’s so good, though. Like he was meant for it all along.”

Mingyu nods, mimicking Kenny’s coos. She shoves him playfully and he laughs before turning his attention back to you. “How long have you been working for Kook?”

“Three months,” you say, “and a bit.”

You can see it in his face, how he does the math. How he thinks of Ira. 

“I see,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. 

Kenny asks him about his whereabouts for the past couple of months and he says he’d been busy with work. Lots of travel, very little time for himself. He was looking forward to taking it easier for the rest of the year as he’d just completed an important project. He too had rejoiced on the wonders of nepotism from what you’d gathered, often mentioning his father when talking about his job. In the short ten minutes since you’d met him you knew more about him than you’d expected at the beginning of the conversation. He liked to ski, had just purchased a property in the alps, he was a pescatarian and, as he so clearly stated whilst looking at you, was single. 

You try not to make much of the heavy flirting, often diverting your gaze elsewhere when your eyes land on his and he lingers. Kenny talks and you listen to her intently, trying to act cool when you feel his eyes on you again. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t miss the way he begins to close the proximity between the two of you. The way he looks at you when you speak, then at your lips, and back at your eyes before he’s laughing his charming smile that he knows a little too well. He doesn’t notice, but he’s frowning as he takes the scene before him in. 

Taehyung flips his steak, whistling in satisfaction at its perfection. He looks over at his friend, mostly to gloat, but sees he’s lost in beef that isn’t of his culinary talents.

“Chill, Matilda.” 

“Huh,” the youngest says, taken out of his trance.

“You have these crazy eyes going on,” he says, hand coming in front of his face to motion his point. 

“Hey,” Jungkook turns to Taehyung, completely dismissing what he’d just said, “wasn’t Mingyu dating Jennie?”

“Uh,” he ponders for a second. “Nope. Mai told me they broke up like three months ago. It was friendly, though.”

“Ah,” he says, eyes still on him and you. 

“You peanut butter and jelly?” Taehyung says this casually as if it wasn’t the most absurd thing Jungkook has ever heard. True, but absurd nonetheless. 

“No.”

“I’d be. He’s a charmer,” he says, directing Jungkook’s frown at him this time. He just shrugs. 

“Whatever,” he says, gaze back to focusing on his grilling. When Taehyung fails to hit him with a witty remark, he looks at him, confused for a second before he’s following his line of vision. Kenny had left and was now with Hobi, leaving you and Mingyu alone. 

“Peanut butter and jelly now?”

“I trust ___.”

Taehyung laughs. Jungkook frowns. 

“Last I knew you guys weren’t official or anything like that,” he states, matter of factly. 

“Do you need labels for loyalty?”

“Uh, yes, dumbass. That’s the whole point of exclusivity.”

“It’s complicated between us, you know that.”

“What’s so complicated about it?”

“Well, I can’t just-”

“Date the nanny?”

“It’s only been three months, Tae.”

“Ira upped and left, Kook. She vanished.”

“I know that.”

“Can I ask you a question,” he says, looking at him. Jungkook nods. “Do you have hopes? Of her coming back, I mean.”

“No.”

“Do you want her to come back,” Taehyung asks, voice soft, threading carefully. 

“No,” Jungkook says, a sigh leaving his lips. 

“Then three months might as well be three years,” he puts his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder when he says this. “Don’t put a pause in your life for her. Not when she went for a full stop.”

“Ouch,” is all he can reply, and it makes him feel foolish. 

“I know,” he gives his shoulder a little squeeze. “But I have to be the voice of reason because you seem to be reasoning all wrong. And I get why but, why hold back, Kook?”

“I don’t know, I-” he looks at you, your arms wrapped around your body as you listen to his friend intently. “It just feels like so much stands in the way sometimes.”

“Ah, well, it always does. There’s always gonna be something that stands in the way. Family, friends, work, money. I got a flat tire on the way to my wedding, for fuck’s sake!” Jungkook smiles, recalling the memory vividly. “But if you focus on that then… really good things might just pass you because you were so worried on how to get there.”

Jungkook is quiet as he takes Taehyung’s words in. 

“Some others,” he continues, “get snatched right from your hands.”

Jungkook and Taehyung see the way you shiver slightly, your hands rubbing at your arms in a futile attempt to warm them. Mingyu notices this, taking a step closer towards you and putting his own hand on your arm, caressing your skin as he, too, attempts to warm you up. They can’t quite make up what he says, but you nod and he smiles before you’re both making your way back inside the house, disappearing from their sight. 

“Shit,” is all Jungkook can muster.

~

He shifts his focus elsewhere. He fixates on the steaks and the vegetables on the grill. On Taehyung’s golf talk. On what wine to pair the food with. He checks his watch – it’s been ten minutes since his friend had taken you inside. His eyes scan the entirety of his backyard, nobody seems to be missing. It’s just the two of you in there. He asks Taehyung about their upcoming trip to Italy, gives him sightseeing recommendations and travel pointers. They spend what feels like forever to Jungkook going back and forth between trains and plane rides in Europe. Jungkook’s for trains, Taehyung’s for planes. He checks his watch again. Fifteen minutes. It surely should’ve been more. He feels insane, questioning his watch’s ability to tell time. 

“Get us a refill,” Taehyung half asks, half commands as he passes his empty glass to Jungkook. He gets bossy on the grill, plus he reckons his friend could use a bit of a walk. 

And so Jungkook makes his way to the table they’d set up with the wines and cheese boards. Eyes the bottles carefully to find the one they’d been drinking, takes a couple of cheese cubes to his mouth, munches on pistachios, praises Mai and Seulgi for their ability to make a killer charcuterie board. 

Yoongi’s hand on his upper back startles him. 

“Woah,” he says, frowning. “On edge much?”

Yoongi doesn’t know why, Jungkook knows this much. But he also knows he has a weird gift for perception. He can read a room, specially if inhabited by his near and dear. 

“This is good cheese,” Jungkook says in between bites, offering some to Yoongi. He stares at his palm, shaking his head before he’s taking the wine bottle and refilling his own glass. 

“This is good wine.”

“I do pride in my selection.”

“You have good taste,” Yoongi says, taking a sip. This makes Jungkook think about you, ironically. 

Jimin joins them, grabbing the cheese cubes on Jungkook’s open palm, making the youngest scowl at him.

“Tae says to go help him,” his voice is muffled by his munching.

Jungkook brings his hand to his jaw and closes Jimin’s mouth, making Yoongi chuckle. On his way to the grill he checks his watch again. Twenty three minutes. It’s been twenty three minutes and now he actually begins to wonder on what could possibly be taking so long. He tries to tell himself that he trusts you, despite Taehyung’s words that are slowly but surely sinking in. He trusts you. Does he trust Mingyu? Why should he? He’s a good friend, sure, but he doesn’t owe Jungkook loyalty on a matter he’s unaware of. The matter being you. And him. And your relationship, or lack there of. 

“There you are, buddy,” Taehyung brings him closer, hand panning over the steaks he’d transferred to a wooden platter. “Look at these babes.”

“Stop calling the meat babe.”

“Why? She likes it!”

“Stop calling her a she.”

“There will be no gender disparities on my grill, Jeon Jungkook. Plus, we have enough he’s,” he says, pointing at the eggplants that were in the slow process of grilling still. 

“I should get the salt,” Jungkook says. 

“There’s salt here,” Taehyung points at the small bowl he’d brought from the kitchen, to the brim with flaky salt. But it takes him but a second to realize what the salt means. “But we’ll probably need more, yes.”

“Be right back!” 

Jungkook walks. Well, no. Jungkook speed walks back inside the house, slowing down his pace the moment he’s back inside, putting nonchalance back in his strut. His stomach feels heavy all of a sudden, though.  Like he’d just finished a whole meal and dessert. Discomfort. A voice in his head tells him to fear something, anything. He fears about the possibility of walking in on you guys in the middle of something, anything. He walks through the living room, steps faltering a bit. How would he feel? How would he feel if he walked in on something he didn’t want to see? Like his friend with his arm around you, mid kiss. Or worse. The worse case scenario feels silly and a bit reckless. But then again, the question still stands. How would he feel? His first thought is angry. The second one doesn’t much come as a thought but as a pang right on his chest that nearly takes his breath away. He hears Mingyu’s voice coming from the kitchen, your soft laugh. His heartbeat grows frantic as he rounds the small hallway and heads in the direction of your voices. 

Relief washes over him as he sees that there’s no kissing involved, or physical contact for that matter. You two lean against the counter as you talk. More like, Mingyu talks, you mostly just listen. You hold a big cup with both hands that you’re about to bring to your lips before Jungkook walks inside the kitchen, making both you and Mingyu turn to face him. 

“Hey, man,” his friend says, a big smile on his face.

“Hey,” Jungkook tries to make his voice sound as lighthearted as possible, but he fears he fails to convey much of that. “Food’s almost ready.”

“Oh,” you say. It’s peppermint tea you drink. Jungkook notices the label. “Have we been gone for long? Is Soori-”

“No, no. She’s fine. She’s on uncle time,” he laughs, but it’s barely there. 

“We must’ve lost track of time,” Mingyu says this, mostly to you. “___ was feeling cold so we came in here to warm her up.”

It takes about two seconds for Jungkook to realize what he means. And no, it’s not the big cup of peppermint tea that serves as warm up. It’s the sweater that falls loosely over your body, a couple of sizes too big for you that’s most certainly not part of your collection. 

“Oh,” is all he says and you don’t miss the way his eyes fall from your face, down your body. 

“She didn’t bring warm clothes for the night. Rookie mistake,” Mingyu laughs, pointing at you. 

“Yeah,” you mutter. 

“I’m worried she’s gonna get cold during the night-”

Jungkook doesn’t let Mingyu finish his sentence, voice curt when he says, “there’s heating in her room.”

“What time is it,” you ask, to no one in particular. 

“8”15,” they both say at the time.

“I should probably get Soori ready for bed.”

“Yeah, sure. It was nice talking to you, ___.” Mingyu looks at you and Jungkook can see something only he can recognize. Not only because he’s known him for years, or because he’s seen it before, but also because he’s pretty sure he’s looked at you in that same way. Mingyu having the hots for you isn’t his main problem, no. Mingyu likes you. Like, genuinely likes you. His gaze is soft but determined, his eyes read an unspoken promise of the next time he gets to have you alone, like this.

You simply nod at him as you start to make your way out the kitchen, eyes meeting Jungkook’s for a brief second before you’re out of sight. 

“Hey, can you get Taehyung the salt? Gotta put Soori to bed,” he points at the cupboards, not waiting for him to reply before he, too, is turning around, making his way back outside. He hears the way he lets out a, “sure!”. Sees how he’s relaxed and oblivious as to what’d just happened from the corner of his eye. 

Jungkook catches up with you, startling you a bit when he grabs the back of your arm. 

“Hey,” he says, and when you look at him he’s at a loss for words. Doesn’t know what to say, where to go from here.

“Hi,” your voice is soft, distant.

“You met Mingyu.”

You don’t like the way his sentence is a statement, not a question. 

“Yeah, he’s nice. He told me you guys went to school together.”

“Yeah, we did. I’ve known him since high school.”

You nod. “That’s nice.”

“He liked you,” his tone has a bit of an edge to it. 

“We were just talking.”

“No, I know. He likes to take it slow.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Jungkook?”

“What? Should I not spoil his M.O. for you?” 

It’s immediate. Instant. The way regret sinks in the second the words leave his mouth. 

“Oh,” your voice breaks, breaking him in the process.

“___-”

“There you are!” Mai walks inside the living room with a teary eyed Soori in her arms. “She wants Daddy. I think she’s ready for bed, this one.”

“Hi, princess,” Jungkook says, bringing her to his arms. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. It’s been a long day, huh?”

Soori cuddles into him for about a second before her eyes are on you. And almost as if she knew just how much of an asshole her dad had just been, she throws herself in your arms, head leaning on your shoulder. Jungkook takes the blow. He reckons he probably deserves it. 

“I’ll take her to bed.”

“___,” he tries, again.

“You guys should start eating. It takes her a bit to fall asleep in new places.”

When you’re out of sight, Mai turns towards Jungkook. She crosses her arms in front of her chest, confronting him with her eyes.

“What did you do now?”

“I fucked up.”

~

You try the closet, the drawers and a basket full of plushies but you can’t find a book anywhere. Soori’s in her night gown, all ready for bed as her eyes grow heavy and you want to read her a book but it’s to no avail. Your search results are unsuccessful so you take her in your arms and sit on the rocking chair. You like the one at home better – it’s more comfortable, has more of a soft feel to it. This one is mostly for aesthetics, you suppose. You rock her in your arms, back and forth, deciding that you will be the one telling the story today. Your voice is soft, so as to not wind her up, gently stroking her hair as you begin to recount a ladybug’s story about her first day of school. Susy the ladybug is how you decide to name her. The ladybug goes through the trials and tribulations of something new, shedding some vulnerable tears before her fears are all gone and she’s learning and playing alongside her many animal friends. You don’t make it this far, though. Soori’s asleep before you can even send the little ladybug to school. Nonetheless, you stay like that. Rocking her in your arms as she sinks into deep, peaceful slumber. 

You stare out the window, unable to make out the ocean in the darkness but well aware it’s there. You think about its sheer size, the many undiscovered depths it holds. You think about Jungkook’s words and how you weren’t quite sure anything could make the pit in your stomach sink any lower. You think about how he’d rebutted that theory in a matter of seconds, with just a couple of words and one cold stare right into your eyes. You almost want to blame yourself. You even want to blame Mingyu. But this time you know it’s on him. Anything you could’ve done, or how he could’ve perceived it, his words had been ten times worst. 

This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like, your heart tells your head. Foolishly enough, as your head reminds it that yes, it isn’t, because Jungkook doesn’t love you and hey, at least that’s consistent. But even if that much is true, you still ponder on the statement. This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like. You remember telling yourself that in the past, the first time being after getting your heart broken for the first time when you were fifteen and thought that you’d marry a boy that lived right next door, only to have him shatter your dreams in a matter of seconds the moment he’d decided to take his love elsewhere. You stayed, you tried. Until you softly told yourself those words. This isn’t what love is supposed to feel like. Love isn’t tears that you shed alone, or words left unspoken. It isn’t spite, or greed, or vengeance. It isn’t jealousy. It isn’t pain that has nowhere to go. 

So what is love, your head stubbornly asks your heart, growing tired of trying to figure it out. But you’re left with little to nothing when it comes to an answer. At least nothing that isn’t memories of all the little moments that made up a huge sum that translated into realizing you loved Jungkook. You think of the first time he smiled at you, of his eyes on you whilst on the plane. You think of the morning after that, of nonchalant coffee talk and your very first banter. You think of your first embrace, of your first kiss, of the sun setting and his stupid speedboat and your hair flowing in the wind and of how nothing had ever compared to the giddy, lightweight feeling in your heart. Him. Love feels like him. Love is supposed to feel like him but he’d become a memory of anger and heaviness and uncertainty that you could not bare anymore. 

You look down at Soori and smile, only realizing you’re crying when a tear falls on top of her forehead. She doesn’t even flinch, but you hate that it happened. You hate that you’re crying with her in your arms, you hate that she’s inevitably in the middle of this, you hate that you two couldn’t be better for her. She didn’t deserve that, as much as you didn’t. Nobody did, you think. Jungkook didn’t deserve to go through what he went through with Ira. He didn’t deserve whatever was so vivid in his eyes when you’d first met him – that pain, that despair. He didn’t deserve it. It’s unfair for everyone and it’s probably what you hate the most about the situation. Not you and your feelings, or his spiteful words. No. Just the inability for things to… work. The bad cards dealt to you, the glitch on the fate you so badly prayed for. The events had turned and they didn’t favor any of you but all you could do in that moment was hope for the best. Even if the best sounded like the worse, most painful scenario. 

You kiss Soori’s forehead, letting your lips linger against her soft skin. You bring her small body closer to you and feel the warmth she radiates and you hope that she can feel all of the love you have for her. You hope it stays with her forever. 

Back in your room you don’t bother to turn on the lights. You head straight for the bathroom and get in the shower, letting the water run piping hot over your body, focusing your senses on the physical so you don’t have to think about the inevitability of it all. You brush your teeth, lather thick cream all over your face without much care and throw a big shirt on, putting socks on your feet and cursing the cold. You can’t sleep but you don’t do much other with your brain, letting yourself cry, and stop, and think, then cry again. Your tears run out sooner than expected but you almost wish they hadn’t. All you have left is emptiness, a hollow void that takes over you. 

You don’t hear Lucy come in, only realize she has when you feel the other side of the mattress sink beside you. You turn around, looking at her and you don’t have to say anything for her to know something’s wrong. 

“Oh, ___,” her voice is sweet, tender. You wonder how it got to this point. You wonder when it became almost telepathic, your way of communicating with each other.

“He doesn’t love me.” Your words are a whisper that you can’t quite bring to completion. 

She brings her hands to your face, wiping the tears away before they can make it past your cheek. It promptly moves to your hair, fingers carding through it and the feeling is comforting. 

“Why do you say that?” She hates that she has to ask. 

“Because I told him,” you begin, “I told him I loved him and he didn’t say it back. And all this time I’ve been… trying to come up with reasons but tonight he just- it’s not love. It isn’t love.”

She nods her head softly, shushing you as your words begin to grow frantic and more tears threaten to fall out. She’s silent for a while, caressing your hair as she tries to thread carefully when choosing her next words.

“Love is- it’s all a complicated thing. For a while, at least. But,” she pauses, takes a breath. “It shouldn’t feel like this. You’re too good for anything that doesn’t make you feel elated and comforted and, loved. You don’t deserve any of this, ___. And I might not know the full story, and you don’t have to tell me just yet, but these tears are proof enough for me.”

You stare into her eyes in the darkness of the room, take her words in and once she’s done, you simply pull her towards you and turn around, letting her arm fall on top of yours as she holds you and brings you closer. 

She doesn’t leave your side until you’ve been asleep for a couple of hours. 

~

You think you’re dreaming at first, abruptly waking up and reaching for Soori’s baby monitor that you’d placed on your night table after putting her to bed. You squint, adjusting your sight as you try to make up the images on the little camera that points at her crib. She was crying, tossing and turning on the mattress and reaching for her giraffe. You check the time. It was a couple of minutes past four a.m., way too early for her to be up. Shoving the duvet off your body, you step into the coolness of the room, then the coolness of the hallway as you make your way to her nursery. It’s dark and eerily quiet, the evening events having come to an end as the whole house slept. 

It’s not surprising that you jump the second you hear the creak of the door as Jungkook, too, makes his way out into the hallway. 

“You scared me,” you tell him, turning around and putting a hand to your chest as you try and steady your heartbeat. For a second, in your sleepy lack of consciousness, you forget. It’s blissful. 

“She’s up,” he states, half asleep himself, eyes swollen and barely open. 

“Yeah. I can go,” you say. He shakes his head, not fully grasping your words and simply walking next to you to her nursery. 

Her cries get louder when the two of you enter the room and she sees Jungkook. He walks over to her crib as you close the door behind you and takes her in his arms, swaying her from side to side as he shushes her cries softly. 

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here,” he coos, bringing his lips to her temple. “Did you have a nightmare?”

You walk closer to them and her eyes make you up in the darkness, her chubby hand reaching out for you. You take her hand in yours and she squeezes, playing with your fingers as her cries subside. 

“Shhh,” your voice is soft, caressing her silky hair with your free hand, encouraging her to go back to sleep. Her eyes grow heavy once again but she fights it. 

“Do you think she’s hungry,” he asks you. 

You shake your head. “I gave her a bottle before bed. I think she had a bad dream.”

She whines again, head coming up in a restless manner. 

“It’s alright, princess. Daddy’s here. We’re here,” he turns around some, so she can see you better and he begins to rock her in his arms. You place a hand on her back, softly running your thumb over it, your front flushed to Jungkook’s back as you sway from side to side, mimicking his movements. It works, and in a matter of minutes, she’s asleep. 

“I don’t want to put her down,” he says, looking at her. 

“I know, but she’ll wake up again if you don’t.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You kiss her cheek ever so gently and he kisses the top of her head before laying her back down on her crib. She flinches a bit, eyes opening for a second that has you and Jungkook freezing like statues and staring intently at her before she closes them again and resumes her sleep. You both chuckle, looking at each other as if it was a reflex that proved complicity. Both your smiles fade rather quickly, though.

“___,” he says and you shake your head, bringing your finger to your lips and making him go quiet as you look down at Soori. He motions at the door with his head and you nod, following him outside. 

It’s cold in the hallway, your sock-clad feet against the wooden floors making you shift in place a bit. There’s something comforting about the quiet nature of the moment, though. Jungkook closes the door carefully, coming to stand in front of you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Shit, I’m so sorry. It was an asshole move and I can’t even wrap my head around what I said.” 

You smile. Not because you forgive him, not because you understand. But because you find it ironic that he can’t wrap his head around the idea of you being his, even in the most childish of ways like a jealousy strike.

“It’s okay.” You don’t believe the words that pass your lips, but what is there to say? You look at him, at what you can make out of his face in the darkness and you can’t bare say anything else. His proximity, his eyes on yours, the way his hair falls on top of his forehead, messy from sleep. It all makes you… want him. It’s stupid, and you blame it on the odd time. On the silence. On the dark. On the fact that nobody’s looking right now, and that’s what your heart is accustomed to. That’s what your body understands as love. It’s what creates desire. You’re a creature of habit, after all. 

“It’s not, I-,” he begins but you take his hand in yours and he stops mid-sentence, looking at the gesture and then looking back at you. 

You can smell him and it makes you feel drunk. Soft and gentle, like his body wash. Clean linen sheets and something else you can’t find the words for other than him. It’s him. You think, for a second, that you should feel stupid, but in reality the touch alone makes you feel alive. 

If you’re to wake up and make sane decisions, let yourself have at least one night to take with you, forever. 

Your hand in his pulls him closer to you and it’s instinctive, the way he wraps his arms around you, holding you in place for a second, taking you in with his gaze before his lips are crashing against yours. There’s no starting rhythm to it, it’s familiar from the get go. Almost like he knows – like he could read your thoughts and was making it count. His hands travel down, sneaking inside the fabric of your t-shirt, squeezing your ass and pushing your hips to his in one swift movement. A moan passes your lips and he smiles, bringing his finger in between your mouths, the low shhh making his lips pout against yours, making you kiss him.

“Jungkook,” you say, mouth on his still. 

“Tell me, baby.”

“Fuck me.” Your voice stands in plea and your words go straight to Jungkook’s cock, well aware of you by now. 

“Fuck.” He sighs against your lips. “Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck you.”

You nod, bringing your lips to him, tongue dancing with his as you move slow, fingers carding through his hair. 

“Please.”

He hums against your mouth, bringing his hands back to your ass as he pulls you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist. He crosses the hallway, hands finding the door knob intuitively as he focuses on the way your lips come down to his neck, his eyes closing in pleasure the second you begin to place open mouth kisses on the flesh. He manages, though. Stepping inside his room with your body snaked around his, walking towards his bed and letting out little grunts of pleasure when your lips begin to suck on his skin, mouth coming to his ear to let him know how much you want him. How you want him to have you. Telling him the things you want him to do to you, no inhibitions holding you back. His knee touches the mattress as he lays you against it carefully, admiring the way you seamlessly fall into his bed, arms outstretching over the soft covers, hips sinking into them as you roll them in a way that hypnotizes him. Your hair flairs out around you and you look heavenly in the dim light.

“Don’t just stare,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist enticingly. 

“Watch me,” he says before leaning down and kissing you again. 

You shake your head, a giggle passing your lips. “I want to.”

“Want what, baby?” Jungkook’s too distracted with his kiss, and with the way your hips roll into his, making him fall into you. 

“To watch you.” 

Your words are filthy and your panties are so fucking thin it makes Jungkook moan as he feels the way his dick falls perfectly between your folds. “Just watch?”

“Mhm. For a little bit. Please?”

“Yeah, okay,” he breathes out, deepening the kiss and rolling his hips into yours. 

You take advantage of the way his body betrays his thinking and put your hands on his shoulders before you’re pushing him down on his back, your knees sinking on the mattress as you bring your body up, looking down at him.

“Lay down on the pillows.” Your voice is demanding and he can’t say he minds.

“‘Kay, boss.” His words make you giggle a bit and you watch the way he scoots over, following your instructions, getting comfortable as he leans his head on his hands. He pouts before he says, “why are you so far away?”

“Because I get to watch.”

“Yeah? What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

You rest your body against the soles of your feet, running your hands through your hair, getting comfortable yourself. 

“I want you to touch yourself.” There’s no shyness in your voice, but it remains soft, drives him a bit mad – your duality. 

“I can do that, baby. Will you give me a show, too?”

“Not right away. I want to watch you first.”

He looks into your eyes for a moment before he sends a smirk your way, sinking back into the pillows before his hand begins to make its descend. 

“No.” He looks confused for a second at your words. “I want you to do it slowly. I want you to do it like you would if I wasn’t watching.”

“Okay,” is all he can respond with, because the little dynamic is already sending all his blood supply down to his cock, throbbing at your demands. 

He closes his eyes, left hand coming behind his head, his fingers playing with his hair for a second. When he opens them again, he looks down at his bare torso, sighs as he palms his cock over his pyjama pants, feels the warmth it radiates, perceives the small signs of his arousal. He squeezes, feels the way he throbs as his hand applies more pressure, a low hiss leaving his lips that has you feeling delirious. He looks up at you then and you get so caught up in his eyes you almost miss the way his hand snakes inside, past his boxers, his eyes closing when he finally gets to wrap a hand around himself. His head falls back, eyes fluttering closed as he circles a thumb around his head, collecting the pre cum and spreading it down his shaft as he begins to jerk himself. You want to see him, you want to see it all, but you stop yourself from asking, from demanding it, when you realize you quite enjoy the sight before you. It feels primal, almost taboo – like you shouldn’t be watching. It makes your pussy throb. 

“Fuck,” he sighs at how good he feels and how badly he needs to discard of his layers, giving himself one last tug before his hips are coming up and he’s getting rid of his pants, boxers following suit, falling into a small pile on the floor.

He sees the way your eyes fall on his naked form, slowly taking him in before they land on his cock, on the way he grasps a hand around it once more, firm at the base like he’s showing you. 

“I love your cock.” 

Your words make him let out a breathy chuckle. “I love your pussy. Wanna show me?”

You lean backwards, resting your weight on your hand, feet touching the mattress as you spread your legs for him. Your fingers bring your shirt up past your tummy, pink panties on full display. He pouts, not fully displeased, but not fully satisfied either. 

“Let me see you, baby.”

“Keep going.” Is all you say. 

He reckons his best bet is to shut up and do what you say, and so he does just that. Applying more pressure as he closes his hand around his cock once again, enjoying the slight friction for a moment before it grows into discomfort. His hand comes up to his mouth and he spits on it, making your breath hitch on your throat at the lewd act, eyes threatening to close in sheer pleasure. You’re reactive when it comes to him. With the added lubrication, he begins to pick his pace back up, jerking his hand up and down, a low moan leaving him when his thumb toys with his slit, forefinger joining as he squeezes the head. His eyes never leave you, going back and forth from your face, to your body, unable to decide which one brings him the most pleasure right now. He grunts when your hand sneaks inside your shirt, when he sees the way you palm at your tits, the act visible through your white shirt. He sees the way you pinch your nipples, making your hips roll involuntarily. 

“Yeah, baby, fuck. Touch yourself for me.”

His pants grow heavier, hand begins to slow down before he squeezes at the base, halting the beginning of his orgasm. 

“How do you feel?”

“Good,” he says. “Too good.” 

“Mm,” you hum, moaning when your thumb grazes your sensitive nipples. 

“Wanna touch you so bad, baby.” 

“Not yet, Kook.”

Before he can protest you straighten your back, removing your shirt in one swift movement, making him moan at the sight of your tits alone. 

“Prettiest tits.” His voice is cocky, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

You smile, leaning back slightly, eyes back on his cock that leaks and throbs for you. You want to put it in your mouth so badly, you want to ride him, touch him. But not yet. 

“What would you do now? Make yourself cum?”

He shakes his head, smiling. You follow the path his hands take, the free one toying with his nipple, making him hiss and let out a low grunt, tummy caving at the overstimulation. The hand that wraps around his cock pumps once, twice, before traveling down until he’s tugging at his balls. You watch the way he rolls them in his palm, making his cock jump against his stomach. 

“Shit,” he breathes out, closing his eyes. 

“Look at me, Jungkook.”

“I am.” He complies, a bit drunk on the pleasure he grants himself. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him. “I’m so wet, Kookie.”

It’s mostly endearing, whenever you use that nickname on him. But in particular moments, it’s a sign that you’re in it to play. 

“Did I? Let me see.” He nods your way, encouraging you. 

Your hand falls between your legs, fingers pulling at the side of your panties as you move the thin fabric to the side. Jungkook cocks his head to the side slightly, smiling when he can see how you glisten from where he stands. 

“Take them off.”

“Who says you’re in charge now?”

“I never stopped being in charge, baby.”

“Doubtful,” you bite back, spreading your pussy lips with your index and middle finger, relishing in the way your actions throw him off a bit. 

“I like to give you what you want. That’s all, baby.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, fingers drawing lazy circles over your clit. “You do.”

“Take them off, ___.”

Your mind doesn’t let you fight back. It’s the need that runs through your body the more you touch yourself, the way he did so good, looked so good. But most of all, it’s the way that it’s true. That he is in charge and he never stopped. And that you loved every second of it. So you give him what he wants now, raising your hips as you roll your panties off your legs, tossing them to the floor before your hands are finding your heat again. 

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself feel good for me, yeah?” His hands resume their own pace, jerking his dick, his movements a bit lethargic, almost as if he was mimicking your speed. 

“Nngh.” The little noises you make are dreamy, makes his eyes fall shut for a second so he can compose himself. 

“Is this how you do it? When you’re all alone?”

“Yeah,” your words are a little strained, face contorted in pleasure.

“Mm,” he nods, feigning more control than he actually has right now. “And where does your mind go?”

“You.” Your words don’t falter, eyes landing straight on his. 

“What about me?”

“Sucking you. Riding you,” your last words get caught up in a moan as you push your middle finger inside your entrance. 

Jungkook hums, eyes fixated on your pussy. “What else?” His own voice fails him as his pleasure grows. 

“Your mouth on me. On my pussy- everywhere. I think about you fucking me. Hard.”

“Come here, ___.” His words are firm, unable to take the distance your little kinky dynamic had put between the two of you, and you seem to be feeling the same because you don’t hesitate much as you crawl towards him with hazy eyes and weak limbs. He looks down, giving you a silent instruction you are more than willing to take as you lay down on your tummy, between his legs, looking up at him. He smiles, hand around his cock as he says, “open.”

And you do, moaning at the way his cock feels heavy on your tongue, tasting the precum and rejoicing in the way he sighs in relief the moment your mouth is on him. You roll his balls on your palm, not wasting any time as you sink down on him, head hitting the back of your throat, making him hiss and moan, a little louder than usual. It feels good to make him feel good – to make him get lost in his pleasure, to allow yourself to get lost in it, too. 

“Oh my god,” his voice is a little whiny, his eyes closing in pleasure as his hand comes to your head and you nod, giving him the cue. He pushes down, eyes back on you, guiding your movements as you move on him skillfully, coming up just to sink back in, letting him press you against him until you’re gagging around his cock, making him groan in primal satisfaction. “Just like that, baby, you’re doing so- fuck, so good.” 

He brings your head back up after using your mouth, smiling when you catch your breath, fucked out eyes looking straight into his as you smile, too. You place open mouth kisses against his tip, sucking on his frenulum as you travel down, letting your spit coat his cock before you’re sucking his balls into your mouth, one by one. Jungkook moans at the feeling, at the sight, before he can’t take it anymore and his head is drawing back against the pillows, tummy hiccuping at the threat of release. 

“Stop.” His hands cup your jaw, halting your movements. “Don’t wanna cum yet.” 

“Okay.” Your voice is sweet, smiling at him as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, fingers lingering on your lips for a while as you come up, leaning over to crash your lips onto his. You kiss him, deep and full of passion, your tongue playing with his, teeth sinking on his bottom lip once, twice, and he gets so lost in the way you kiss him he succeeds at ignoring everything else. It’s not for long, though, moaning into your mouth as his dick jumps against his pelvis, bringing a hand down to allow it some much needed friction. 

“Ride my cock, baby.” 

“Yeah, I want that. Want that so bad.” 

“Take it, then,” he says, kissing you one last time before he’s settling back down against the pillows, getting comfortable as he watches you get settled, straddling him, hands falling to his chest, pressing your tits together right on his face, a lazy smirk adorning his lips at the sight. You roll your eyes when you notice, but it’s lighthearted because you both know that there’s nothing you love more than getting those little reactions out of him. You sink down on him slowly, watching the smile fade into an almost pained expression as his face contorts in pleasure, the two of you sighing at the feeling of his cock filling you up. 

You sit on him, head rolling back as you let the discomfort turn into pleasure. He holds your hips, fingers touching the soft skin gently, a little moan leaving his lips when you clench on him. Your hand comes down to your lower tummy as you press, legs reflexively trying to close around his waist, making him hiss as you both feel the pressure you apply to his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” he pants, squeezing at your hips. “That was so hot.”

“I feel like I’m gonna pee myself,” you say, making the both of you laugh. 

“I think that’s another thing, baby.” 

“It’s too much.” Your voice shakes. 

“That’s okay. Just ride me.” His voice is soft, fingers tucking your hair behind your ears as you nod. 

You set the pace together, fucking him slowly as he moves your hips, helping you move on him, letting you feel him fully as you sink yourself onto him before coming back up, not entirely, never not having him inside of you. Your eyes lock on his, taking in his features, how beautiful he looks when a particular roll of your lips has him moaning, eyes fighting to stay open. You take in the sounds he makes, the way they get lost in your own, the way his lip gets caught between his teeth right before he utters dirty little words your way, words of praise that let you know how good you make him feel, encouraging you as he tells you that you’re doing so, so well. You cry out in pleasure when he tells you your pussy was made for him, hands coming to rest at his thighs as you fuck yourself on him, the tip of his cock massaging that sweet spot inside of you with every push and pull. 

“I’m so close,” you mewl, nails digging into his thighs. 

“Come back to me,” he pleads, hands on your tits, thumbs caressing your nipples before he’s pulling you back down by the waist. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your words are airy, filled with lust as you begin to move faster on top of him. Jungkook removes his hands from your waist, letting you do as you please – letting you use him – and brings them to your face, making you look at him. He sees the way your mouth parts in a silent moan when you cum around his cock, moaning at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as your pussy contracts around him. 

“Good girl. You did so good, baby,” he mutters soft praises against your lips soothingly, aiding your come down. 

“Yeah?” You ask, feeling a little delirious. 

“Yeah. Fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

“Make me cum again, Kookie. Fuck me hard this time.”

And that’s seemingly all you have to say for Jungkook to take back the reigns he carries so very well. He plants one last kiss on your lips before he’s holding you by the waist, pushing you off gently, letting himself get distracted by the mess you’ve left all over him. You bite your lip as you take it in, too, the sight before you definitely matching how wet you are between your legs. It makes you giggle a bit, a little fucked silly as your limbs feel weak and your body feels so, so good at the same time. You don’t linger in your little bliss for long, though. Jungkook grabs you by the hips, pulling you back up and positioning you in your hands and knees. Your legs give out a bit, feeling a little shaky but you relax once he stands behind you, finding a spot between your legs and running his hand down your spine. His touch is soft, the sheer act sending jolts of electricity down your body as he presses down some, making you arch your back for him, throwing your ass back at him slightly. 

“So sexy,” he praises, palms coming to your ass before he squeezes at the soft flesh. “All mine.”

“Yeah- yeah, Jungkook. I’m all yours.” And you mean it. You mean it because in your state, you are. Because when he takes over your senses all you can think about is him, and how his you are. All you can think about is this moment and giving yourself to him completely. So you are all his, and he is all yours. When his fingers travel down, finding their place between your slit, you hiss, pulling away from him instinctively as the oversensitivity takes over. He feels how swollen you are, still dripping down his fingers. 

“Shh, baby. Just focus on my touch.”

“Okay,” you breathe, pushing back into his touch, closing your eyes as you concentrate on him and him only. 

“You’re so tight around my fingers. Can't wait to get my cock in here. You want that, ___?”

“Shit- yes,” your words are a whisper as he sinks his fingers into you, going straight for your g-spot. 

“Can I play with you a little first?” His next actions find you mid-nod, making you gasp as you feel his thumb gently graze over your asshole, a moan leaving your mouth. “Need your words, baby.”

“Yes. Please, Kook- nngh.”

He draws his tongue inside his mouth, collecting saliva before he lets it fall straight into your ass, watching as it falls down your pussy. You whine, needy and a little desperately and he doesn’t prolong the anticipation, fingers buried inside of you as he brings his tongue to your ass, giving tentative little licks as if to measure your reactions. You moan, face crashing against the mattress as your arms give out, cries of pleasure leaving you as Jungkook lets his tongue play, fucking your ass as his middle and ring finger rub at your clit in tight little circles. It’s damn near overwhelming, your moans growing high pitched and probably a little too loud, but you can’t quite register anything other than the pleasure he gives. 

Your second orgasm takes you by surprise, feeling the way your tummy tenses when Jungkook spits on your ass, closing his mouth around you as lewd little sounds fill the air, his fingers entering you once again, deeper and harder this time. You can’t even speak, your only way of letting him know is reaching behind you, taking hold of his thigh and digging your nails into them, a loud cry leaving you before you’re coming all around his mouth. All around his fingers. You come down on his tongue, falling into its languid little movements before you’re cringing back in overstimulation. 

“Fuck,” he says, coming up and running a hand through his hair. You smile at him, cheek still pressed to the mattress, ass up. “You look pretty like this.”

“Are you buttering me up so you can hit it in back shots?”

He laughs. “Can you take it, baby?”

You nod your head, giving him a lazy smile. “I want it.”

“How do you want it?”

“Hard.”

He smirks, bringing an open palm to your ass cheek as he spanks it. You moan, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as the pleasure swims over your body. You gather your strength, mainly induced by adrenaline as you bring yourself back up on your hands, pushing your ass back, looking at him seductively as you do so. He runs two fingers down his tongue, wetting them before bringing them back down to his cock, giving himself a few pumps before lining himself on your entrance. You sigh when his tip teases your hole, moan when he pushes into you, bottoming out on the first stroke, driving you forward a bit. 

“Fuck, you feel so warm.”

“You feel so big,” you breathe out, panting as you brace yourself for what your next words will ignite. “Fuck me, Kook. Please.”

He draws his hips back, eyes zeroing in on the way your juices coat his cock before he’s slamming right back into you. He groans and you gasp as his hands come down to your hips, holding you in place as he starts to fuck you. His pace grows slowly, steadily. He fucks you deep, lets you get used to him, measuring your reactions in the way you moan and arch your back, each of which ask for more. It feels so fucking good, your head falling between your arms as you let him use your body at his very desire, his cock hitting all your sweet spots with each drive of his hips, his breath and moans sounding so delicious, music to your ears, adding to the overall experience. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” His words are but a set of strangled breaths, a high pitch moan passing his lips that makes your entire body react to it as you clench around his fat cock. “I’m so close. Fuck.” He groans, spanking your ass again, growing feral. “Can you give me one more, baby?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“C’mon, angel. You can do it.”

“Fuck, Jungkook-” you cry out the minute his hips pick up the pace, angling you in the way only he knows how, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside of you and that’s all it takes for the pleasure to start building up in your lower stomach. “Shit- fuck. Just like that.”

He fucks you at that exact pace, chest rising and falling with the exertion of his actions but he can barely notice the way it spends his body, mind too focused on how good you feel – on how much he can feel you, almost as if your pussy was swallowing him back in with each pull. He slams his cock inside of you with force, balls slapping against your clit. He feels the way your body tenses, knows you’re close. 

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Cum for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You feel the way your tummy locks in, body drawing back into itself before you’re letting go, muscles relaxing as you cum around Jungkook’s cock, his pace never faltering. “I’m cumming, oh my God.”

The way your pussy contracts around his cock sends him into overdrive, mind growing hazy at the feeling, your moans the perfect sound to pair it all with. His hips begin slowing down and he stops altogether, letting you milk his cock with the last remains of your orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says, voice whiny, eyes closed, nails digging at your flesh. 

“Cum in my mouth, baby, please.” Your voice is raspy, voice sore and body spent. You sound so sweet, so good. 

He can’t find his words, simply pulling off of you and crashing back against his pillows, running his hands down his face, cock angry and leaking. You find your place back in between his legs, hand wrapping around his cock as you give him a couple of pumps before your tongue circles the head. 

“Shit, baby,” he opens his eyes, looking down at you, moaning. 

“Cum for me, Kookie. Want it so bad.”

He nods, hand cupping your chin as he lets himself get lost in the way your mouth feels around him. You sink down on him, sucking on your way up, playing with his balls as you feel him grow tense. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He sighs, head drawing back before he’s looking back down at you, hand working on him and the tip of his cock on your tongue as you shake your head from side to side. He cums inside your mouth, hot strips of his release coating your tongue, some falling down your chin. It’s a sight to behold and Jungkook doesn’t miss a single second. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” he says, a bit deliriously. 

He sees the way you smile, swallowing before your eyes grow heavy, clouded with lust before you say, “thank you.”

Jungkook smiles, an airy laugh passing his lips before he’s bringing you back up, your body crashing against him as his crashes against the pillows. He kisses you, teeth clanking with yours and it makes the both of you giggle. 

“I’ve never ran a marathon but I feel like I just did,” you say. 

“I have and it feels just like this, yes.”

You chuckle and he swoons, finding you so sweet. You look at the window, see the tiny pockets of light that comes from the blinds. “The sun is coming out. What time is it?”

Jungkook looks at the clock on his nightstand. “6:23”

“Oh my God.”

“I’ve been fucking you for over two hours. What a life.” He sighs, closing his eyes and snuggling into the pillows. 

You look down at him, take him in. Your smile fades the more the sight before you makes your heart feel tight in your chest. Tight with love, tight with heartbreak. Your fingers come up to his cheek, softly touching him there, making him sigh in sweet satisfaction, eyes still closed. You feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours, his heartbeat in perfect sync with yours as it tries to steady itself. 

“I wish we could stay like this.”

“Me too,” he says, but he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t register the full extent of your words. After all, only you know what you mean. “Soori’ll be up in like an hour or so, the others in maybe two, three hours. We should try to sleep while she still does.” 

“Okay.” You kiss him, lips locked on his, trying to lock the memory in as best as you can. When you pull away you smile, endeared by the smile that forms on his own lips. You begin to pull your body away from his and he frowns, hand closing around your arm. 

“Where are you going?”

“To my room, just in case-”

“No. Stay here. Please.”

“Are you sure?” He nods, pulling you closer. “Okay.”

“Good.” He kisses you again. 

“I should pee. And you should, too.”

“My dick is broken,” he mocks sleep, shutting his eyes closed, making you laugh.

“Come on!” You pull him by the arms, dead weight that you carry halfway through his king size bed. 

But once you get him out of the bed, he manages to get you inside the shower, quickly lathering your bodies in foamy soap, in a silence that you find comforting, powered by the exhaustion that runs through your bodies. But nonetheless, he’s gentle as he runs the sponge down your body, and you’re gentle as you lather him up, too, stealing kisses here and there. 

When you finally get in bed, it takes him about ten seconds to fall into what you know is a deep slumber, the last thing he says to you is, “good night!” as tiny chuckles escape him through the irony of his words. You look at him, feel the way his breath grows heavy, hair wet against the pillows, lips full and plump and red from your kisses, looking so peaceful and so beautiful. A beauty you know comes once in a lifetime. 

You smile. 

“I love you,” you whisper at him, head falling to his chest before sleep begins to take over your mind and body, a smile on your face.

If you’re to wake up and make sane decisions, let yourself have at least one night to take with you, forever. 

~

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere@drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie@shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie@hobipost @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses@kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55@rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn@emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader @laurynne5 @thickgrinch@dianaxnyc @ruinsofangels @berryonasummerevening @taeslarityy@hisunshiine @preciouschiminie @ruclements @galaxyflab @jalexad@missseoulite @bangtannoonalvg @kootonins @lustremyg @kissme-ornot@92thk @everythingaboutfangirling @cakecobain @callmejimmeo @simp4tae@landl7xoxo @jungjoonie @sanfransolomitatm @khadeeeeej @mar-lo-pap @nanjeonlangakook @parkinglot-nights @purplebeebs

[oikasugayama]

hi !! u said u want smut requests so does nsfw alphabets with akutagawa count? 😭😭 feel free to ignore this and have a good day <333

Thanks for your patience, anon!! Here's 3k words (MDNI)

Akutagawa NSFW alphabet <3

Aftercare is something Akutagawa is surprisingly good at. Maybe it’s because he understands how vulnerable you have to be to get intimate with a partner; he isn’t letting someone inside of his body, but his own history of trauma has led to him feeling extremely uncomfortable without his clothes which hold the key to his ability. Because of this, he feels a deep need to be kind to his partner after sex. After a moment of calm in which both of you catch your breath, Akutagawa gets out of bed and starts filling the tub for a bath. He comes back with a soft, damp rag to wipe any sweat or cum off of his partner, then he leads you to the bath which the two of you share. He washes your hair, cleanses your skin, gives you loving kisses and so on. He likely also mutters soft “thank you”s into your hair and skin, as he's very appreciative that you'd let him play with your body.

Akutagawa’s favorite body part is your mouth, or more specifically your tongue. Before you got together he would catch himself staring at your mouth, wondering how soft your lips were and how they'd feel against his. When he finally got to find out, he became addicted to kissing you, and that only intensified when you started kissing with tongue. It's the softness for him, the special type of unfamiliar cushy soft spongy feeling. He's obsessed with it. He wants his mouth on yours all the time. He also likes your mouth on his body, kissing all across his skin and leaving little damp spots where you lick him. The first time your mouth touches his penis he almost blacks out. His hands aren't rough, but they're nowhere near as soft as the perfect velvet of the inside of your mouth. He would die a thousand deaths for that soft, warm feeling.

He’s not a cum eater, and he doesn’t expect his partner to be either, but when your mouth refuses to unlatch when he warns you of his approaching climax, he feels like his face is burning from the blush that overcomes him. He feels like it’s dirty-- it’s not, he knows that logically because he’s researched it, but he feels shameful still from his own insecurity. He thinks it’s hot at the same time. He can’t believe you want him so badly that you say you want “every last drop” of him, whether it’s in your mouth or in your cunt. He’s yet to cum inside without a condom, being overly careful that you avoid pregnancy, but one day he’ll let you have it. One day when things are safer.

Dirty talk isn’t exactly his forte. He can surprise you and occasionally drop some pussy-tingling one-liners (which he copies from things he’s heard his coworkers say when their conversations get raunchy, or things he’s read in books when he’s delved into modern romance at your behest). He can degrade you if you’d like, call you a greedy bitch when you ask him for another orgasm, call you a cock slut and his dirty little whore when you bounce on his cock and play with your tits unashamedly right in front of him. That’s about the extent of what he can say in bed, though. He gets nervous. He’s not a man of many words.

He’s not very experienced at all when you get together. He had a crush as a young teen in the slums, but he was too focused on taking care of his sister and protecting both of them to really try to approach one of the girls in their pack. There was a girl a couple years older than him when he joined the PM--she worked more with Chuuya than Dazai, so he rarely saw her, but they did steal kisses occasionally when no one was around. She always made the first move and he did whatever she asked. They never got beyond feeling each other up through their clothes before she didn’t come back from a mission, and he vowed not to get attached to anyone again, until you came along and broke that vow.

His favorite position is lotus. He likes you sitting in his lap, he likes the feeling of your legs locked around him. He likes being able to run his cold hands all over your warm skin and kiss you and hold you while you do most of the work bouncing and grinding on his dick. With his lungs being as frail as they are, he can’t get his heart rate up by doing a lot of moving, which you’re fine with accommodating. Though, when he does desperately want to take control, he loves bending you over a piece of furniture and fucking you from behind, especially when you start moving backwards to meet his thrusts (which you do half because it feels good and half because you want him to avoid a big coughing fit).

He will not be goofy at all in bed, and if you are he’ll give you a weird look. If he’s in a really good mood he may chuckle at whatever you said but he won’t respond. He takes sex fairly seriously; he’s focused on giving you pleasure to show his devotion to you, and his pleasure is a good consequence.

He won’t deny a hand-job, even if maybe you shouldn’t be giving him one in your current location. If you’re at dinner together, sitting beside one another, and you want to pleasure him so badly that you’re willing to reach under the table and pull him out of his pants, even though his coworkers are sitting around--oh it drives him crazy. He’s lucky to be stoic in those moments because even as you work him up and make him cum, his coworkers are none the wiser.

That being said, it should be obvious that he’s okay with fucking in inappropriate locations. It partially comes from being mafia-- most people know who he is just from looking at him. They wouldn’t dare mess with him or try to get him off of you, no matter how much you claw at him and scream his name. Absolutely anyone who walks into the alley (or the park. or on a boat. or in his office. or in someone else’s office. or in a PM car. or in the elevator.) he’s fucking you in can tell that you’re into it. 

He jerks off occasionally before you’re together, but his sex drive isn’t very high. After you’ve gotten together, he becomes addicted to you and any time he wants release, he tries to get to you before resorting to his own hand. If you’re unavailable for whatever reason, he’s not opposed to going back to rutting against a pillow or lotioning up his hand, but it makes him grumpy because what he really wants is your pussy and nothing feels the fucking same anymore.

He doesn’t think he has any kinks, until the first time you touch him under the table with his coworkers, and then he realizes very quickly that he likes the idea of being caught. He loves the idea of people seeing him fucking you and thinking “oh, she belongs to him.” That’s what he wants whenever he takes you in the bushes or fucks you on the floor of a boat drifting barely a few hundred feet out from the port. He wants someone to see that you belong to him. (In a few years he’ll realize he has a breeding kink, too. It’s an extension of claiming you and everyone being able to see it. If he were a social media girly he’d be so tempted to post videos of his cum gushing out of your pussy bc GRRRRRR THIS IS HIS, BEHOLD!!! AKUTAGAWA’S PROPERTY!!!!)

He loooooves you. He’s smitten. He’s the definition of “you fell first, but he fell harder.” He LOOOOOOOVES you. Sometimes he looks at you and suddenly his face flushes red and his eyes widen and his heart rate picks up because his whole system is just overwhelmed with “oh my god!! Her!!” He always comes up to you and hugs you from behind or puts his hands on your waist or pulls you in to a kiss, completely ignoring whatever you were doing before, and he just holds you and touches you and almost always tries to get you into bed when he gets these love surges. The sex that comes after these love surges always involves him eating you out like pussy is his favorite meal, and then letting you ride him or do lotus position so he can hold you.

Haven’t we covered his motivation already? You, you, you, you, you. He wants to pleasure you. He wants to show you how much he loves you. He wants you to know how important you are to him. Yeah, he also likes the feeling of getting his rocks off. It’s a nice climax to his love surges. His secondary motivation would probably just be closeness and feeling like a normal person. For once in his life he feels normal. He’s just a guy with his girlfriend in his apartment and they have sex and make love and say sweet nothings to each other and he doesn’t have to think about any of the horrible things he’s done or seen or experienced in that time you spend together.

There are things he would definitely say NO to. He wouldn’t agree to adding another person into the mix. He wouldn’t let you get fucked by someone else, nor would he be comfortable fucking someone else for you to see. He doesn’t want to hit you, or be hit. No knives, no guns, no weapons, unless you count a rather tame leather fringe whip that you have, that’s fine. He’ll try any position, any location. He’d be more than fine with posting pictures or videos online in certain spaces. Rashomon is perfectly suited for bondage. But he will. not. let. you. call. him. daddy. He frowns. He stops. He pulls away. He asks if you’re okay and what your father did to you. It’s not a fun ending, so you don’t even try calling him that anymore.

Oral… He’s a pussy eating CHAMP! #1 Pussy Eater! When your relationship started turning sexual, Akutagawa took a large leap of faith and asked Tachihara for advice on how to pleasure a woman. Tachihara excitedly, and insistently, sent Akutagawa a video all about how to eat pussy and make a woman cum, and this led to Akutagawa watching several other educational videos, and ohohohohoh he is great at retaining information, and he’s even better at applying what he learned. It takes quite a while for him to admit that he learned it from videos--you laugh really hard when he does tell you, and you giggle and coo and comfort him when he thinks you’re laughing at him.

He prefers a slower pace, partially to prevent his coughing fits, mostly because he likes sex to be sensual. He allows you to change pace whenever you’d like, of course, and he honestly likes when you want him to go faster, go harder. You’re usually just as conscious of his coughing as he is, but sometimes you just hand him his inhaler when he’s balls deep and tell him to buckle up, buttercup, because if he doesn’t rearrange your guts you’re going to start clawing at the walls.

He’s fond of quickies. He doesn’t see the point in holding off orgasms. If you rush into his office and say you’ve got 15 minutes before a meeting and you really want his cock in your mouth, who’s he to say no? Similarly, if he’s missing you or struck with random horniness and he comes home for a lunch break and wants to fuck you wherever he finds you, how is that ever a bad thing? 

We know he likes some risks, but not others. Public sex? Yes. Potential pregnancy? No (for now). Accidentally leaking pics or videos of you having sex with him? Yes (might not even be accidental). Weapons or dangerous items in the bedroom? No. 

He doesn’t have a lot of stamina. He never has because he grew up in the slums, very ill, only running when he had to flee, trying to conserve energy and stay put when he didn’t have to go anywhere. Now as an adult he uses Rashomon for all his fighting. He doesn’t train. He doesn’t work out. So yeah, he’s not exactly the most fit, and he doesn’t have a ton of stamina. He can do multiple short rounds in a day if he’s extra excited, but usually you’ll get a nice hour (at most) with him in the evenings before his lungs and his dick tap out for the night. 

He has an ever-expanding list of turn-ons. He gets hot and bothered when you wear short dresses and skirts, or tops that show cleavage, or bottoms that hug your butt and thighs really well. He likes when you wear your hair in a messy ponytail with little bits framing your face and lots of blushy and glowy makeup. He likes when you absentmindedly touch him when you’re near him-- sliding your hand across his back, twirling his long hair around your fingers, patting his leg when you sit next to one another. It’s not hard to turn him on.

He’s not very unfair in bed. As stated before, he doesn’t see the point in denying orgasms or withholding pleasure. He may do it occasionally. If you ask him to go multiple rounds and keep pleasuring you, he will, he’ll just leave himself out of it. He’ll eat you out and eat and lick and suckle and finger and lick until you’ve cum so many times you’ve lost count and you can’t form coherent sentences. That’s not really being unfair, since he’s giving you what you want ;)

He always encourages your volume to be high, though his typically remains low. He grunts and moans against your ear or your neck or your mouth more so than out loud. He isn’t trying to wake the neighbors by any means. It’s not that he doesn’t feel things strongly, it’s just that his voice doesn’t feel as connected to the situation as yours must. You can get loud and he likes making you that way. He hasn’t gotten a noise complaint yet, but he almost wants one just so he can look someone in the eye while they admit they heard him fucking you--AHA THEY KNOW YOU’RE HIS.

This post is my slow descent into fucking madness. For wild card I’m talking more about Akutagawa’s possessiveness and that breeding kink. Once his relationship is super serious and he realizes he wants to be with you for as long as possible, he considers leaving the mafia. When he considers leaving the mafia and finding another place for you two to leave peacefully, he also considers that you could have a nice, normal family… a family… little babies… you getting pregnant… him getting you pregnant… him cumming in you with no condom and pushing that cum back inside and holding your hips up in the air and looking at your pretty pussy while making sure all his cum seeps into your uterus to hopefully find an egg… he’s so hard right now. He’s bricked up. Even the technical scientific side of it turns him on because that’s his sperm and your egg and a part of him is going to be implanted in a part of you and then it’s going to attach to the uterine lining and it’s going to grow and become a baby and and and and an

He has a whole x-rated photo album in his phone. When it gets so full and when he misses you, he starts looking back at his favorites to get himself off. He’ll casually turn his phone to you sometimes and show a picture of you sitting on his lap, head thrown back, tits near his face, and his phone is in his hand behind your back catching a mirror pic of you two fucking. You didn’t even know he was taking it!! He just wanted to capture the moment okay… and he has a lot more of them, ranging from that one which was kind of sweet all the way to cum splashed on your face, your tits in his mouth, his balls pressed up against your pussy while your hand is playing with his dick. Some truly x-rated shit, and he’s so proud of it.

Oh boy does he yearn. When you’re separated for a long time (read: two days when he goes on a weekend trip) he sits around and huffs and puffs and is grumpy because he misses you. He literally calls you the second he’s free every day, and in the shower he looks at his special pictures of you, but he’s still so sad, so lonely. He misses his sweet girl. The lack of sex doesn’t bother him nearly as much as the lack of you in bed next to him does when one of you spends the night away from the other.

ZzZzZz… that’s the sound of Akutagawa breathing and just barely snoring in your ear after you’ve settled in for bed. He always makes you have a quick shower with him after having sex at home, whether in the morning or night, just to stay clean while also having an opportunity to throw the sheets in the wash. Once you’ve both settled back into bed with some fresh new sheets, he pulls you close to him, keeps one arm wrapped around you at all times despite how you both wriggle around to get comfortable, and eventually he falls asleep with you playing with his hair, his head near your shoulder, breath softly hitting your skin.